[Russian instrumental intro] Ah, roads, Dust and mist, Cold, anxiety, And the weeds of the steppe. [Chorus:] You cannot know Your fate, Maybe you will fold your wings In the middle of the steppes... Dust swirls under boots, Across the steppes, across the fields — And all around flames rage, And bullets whistle. Ah, roads, Dust and mist, Cold, anxiety, And the weeds of the steppe. A shot thunders, A crow circles... Your friend lies in the weeds, Lifeless. And the road races further, Dusts, billows, And around the earth smokes, A foreign land. Ah, roads, Dust and mist, Cold, anxiety, And the weeds of the steppe. Pine forest's edge, The sun rises. At the dear porch Mother waits for her son. And along endless paths, Steppes, fields, The loving eyes of our dear ones Follow us still. Ah, roads, Dust and mist, Cold, anxiety, And the weeds of the steppe.
