Текст песни Доброволец - Отцовская хата

Mowing his father's hut,
Tipped charred fence -
Not gone back once
With volunteers, with white son.

They said - for the Black Sea
We retreat to one hundred ships ...
Lay maternal grief
Not for nothing in the temples turned gray.

Conducted father - expropriated -
In the harsh, remote Narym.
There, at home, do not cry out loud,
Deadman otpevaya alive.

German transport brought the old woman,
Seeking firstborn poor mother.
But on the white not heard -
Even scary to think about them.

He emptied his father's hut,
Collapsed, crumbled fence.
"With weapons taken," Do not come back
And as Vlasovite issued son ...

Nicholas
Kudashev