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Soviet military song - Ah, the roads | Classical Guitar Fingerstyle | Viterros
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Ah, the roads is a Soviet WWII song by Anatoly Novikov to lyrics by the poet Lev Ivanovich Oshanin. The song is one of the best known works of the composer, having been popularised by both ensembles carrying the name of the Red Army Choir, namely the Alexandrov Ensemble and MVD Ensemble. Novikov and Oshanin were members of a military troupe at the front and the song was composed under artillery fire at Zhizdra. Among those who have recorded the song are Muslim Magomayev, Ivan Rebroff (1986), Dmitri Hvorostovsky on the war songs album Where Are You My Brothers, and the Choir of Sretensky Monastery. The song begins "Ah, roads.." («Эх, дороги…») and is not to be confused with another Red Army Choir favourite "На дороге" ("On the road") or "Гей, по дороге!".
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⚫Lyrics:
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And, steppe grass.
***
You cannot know
Your own share,
Perhaps you will fold your wings
In the middle of the steppes.
***
Dust swirls under boots
And steppes,
And fields.
While all around flames roar
And bullets whistle.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
A shot will burst,
The Raven circles:
Your friend in the weeds
Lifeless lies...
***
The road rushes further
It is dusty,
And curls
And all around the earth smokes
A Foreign Land.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
A pinewood land.
The sun rises.
On a native porch
A mother is waiting for her son.
***
And along the endless ways
steppes,
fields
All they do is look and follow us
The native eyes.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
Perhaps snow or winter, -
Let us remember, my friends!
These are precious
We cannot forget...
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------------------------------------------------------------
⚫Lyrics:
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And, steppe grass.
***
You cannot know
Your own share,
Perhaps you will fold your wings
In the middle of the steppes.
***
Dust swirls under boots
And steppes,
And fields.
While all around flames roar
And bullets whistle.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
A shot will burst,
The Raven circles:
Your friend in the weeds
Lifeless lies...
***
The road rushes further
It is dusty,
And curls
And all around the earth smokes
A Foreign Land.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
A pinewood land.
The sun rises.
On a native porch
A mother is waiting for her son.
***
And along the endless ways
steppes,
fields
All they do is look and follow us
The native eyes.
***
Oh, the roads...
Dust and mist
Cold, Alarm
And steppe grass.
***
Perhaps snow or winter, -
Let us remember, my friends!
These are precious
We cannot forget...
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