You and I, brother, are from the infantry,
and summers are better than winters.
We've settled our score with the war,
grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
The war has bent and worn us down,
yet even war has met an end.
Your mother was four years without her son,
grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
Our streets are burned to the ground,
still again, again, my comrade,
the lost starlings have come back to them.
Grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
Now you're sleeping with closed eyes
under a plywood star1
Stand up, stand up, brother,
grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
What will I say to your relatives?
How could I face your widow?
You can't pledge in the name of yesterday.
Grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
We are all the accidental children of war,
generals and privates alike.
Spring rises again over the snow,
grab your trenchcoat, we're going home!
1. many Soviet soldiers graves bore a pyramid with a red star