Poltavian Battle
Fight!
The new dawn burns the (eastern) sky
And canons roar upon the hills
The purple smoke is (twisting) high
Toward the rose empyreans!
To make a tryst with (morning's) rays
The regiments are closing ranks
The marksmen fill the (scattered) brush
The shot is flying, bullets slash!
Bullets slash!
The cavalry is charging
The infantry is charging too
Endeavoring to fortify
The cavalry with steadfast ranks
Steadfast ranks!
The field of fatal battle thunders
Illuminated by the flames
The glory of their banners darkens
And by the grace of God, each step
We take across the field is blessed
Then Peter's sonorous, inspired
Voice rose above the battle, westward
Emerged, surrounded by a crowd
"В бой!"
The battle flames. Through martial dust
He flies, his eyes attentive, sly
The scorching glow of noon recasts
The cannons blow and bullets fly
Within the smoke amid the plains
The battle of Poltava thundered!
In flames, beset by burning hail
The skies affright, forever sundered
And over fallen ranks
Close in with bayonets
Grave clouds
The cavalry detachments fly
Their bridles, sabers ring
Collide and hack and sing
The corpses pile on heaps of corpses all around
Them, leaping, striking, scattering
Dust, hissing in the pools of blood
The Swedes and Russians - chop, hack, cut
But Victory is ours and wrought!
The new dawn burns the (eastern) sky
And canons roar upon the hills
The purple smoke is (twisting) high
Toward the rose empyreans!
To make a tryst with (morning's) rays
The regiments are closing ranks
The marksmen fill the (scattered) brush
The shot is flying, bullets slash!
Bullets slash!
The cavalry is charging
The infantry is charging too
Endeavoring to fortify
The cavalry with steadfast ranks
Steadfast ranks!
The field of fatal battle thunders
Illuminated by the flames
The glory of their banners darkens
And by the grace of God, each step
We take across the field is blessed
Then Peter's sonorous, inspired
Voice rose above the battle, westward
Emerged, surrounded by a crowd
"В бой!"
The battle flames. Through martial dust
He flies, his eyes attentive, sly
The scorching glow of noon recasts
The cannons blow and bullets fly
Within the smoke amid the plains
The battle of Poltava thundered!
In flames, beset by burning hail
The skies affright, forever sundered
And over fallen ranks
Close in with bayonets
Grave clouds
The cavalry detachments fly
Their bridles, sabers ring
Collide and hack and sing
The corpses pile on heaps of corpses all around
Them, leaping, striking, scattering
Dust, hissing in the pools of blood
The Swedes and Russians - chop, hack, cut
But Victory is ours and wrought!
Credits
Writer(s): Dimitriy Zaharov
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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