In Memoriam... Леонид Утёсов ― Leonid Utyosov

From an Odessan Hoosegow

Two cons have busted loose now
from an Odessan hoosegow —
they’re on the lam and headed for the sea.
But seeing it’s still light out,
they’ve stopped off at a hideout —
they’ve stopped a while to rest their weary feet.

One is a wartime hero,
a Makhno buccaneer who
paid a heavy price for what he’s done.
He’s bandaged up all over
and ain’t exactly sober,
and all the time he sings this little song:

“O comrade, my comrade,
my wounds hurt something awful,
my wounds hurt something awful in my side.
One’s healing pretty well,
the second’s foul as hell,
the third is mighty deep and gaping wide.

O comrade, my comrade,
my melancholy comrade,
tell me: why’d we spill our precious blood?
For a pair of painted lips?
Bare knees and swinging hips?
We did it for the love of some damn broad?

They’re back there, making merry
with some Tom, Dick, or Harry,
while you and me, we’re really in a spot.
The foe is on our track,
there ain’t no turning back,
and any minute now we might get shot.

What is it that we fought for?
What did we spill our blood for?
Tell me: why’d we ever pick up guns?
They’re back there, making merry
with some Tom, Dick, or Harry —
they’re back there, safe and sound, and having sons.

O comrade, my comrade,
please bury my body,
please bury my body deep someplace.
Put a stone above my grave
and a smile, so’s I look brave,
a smile, so’s I look brave, onto my face.

O comrade, my comrade,
please tell my poor mama
her boy went down fighting in the war —
with a rifle in his left hand,
a saber in his right hand,
and wearing a brave smile from ear to ear.”

Two cons have busted loose now
from an Odessan hoosegow —
they’re on the lam and headed for the sea.
But seeing it’s still light out,
they’ve stopped off at a hideout —
they’ve stopped a while to rest their weary feet.

Translated from the Russian by Boris Dralyuk Борис Дралюк

Леонид Утёсов - С одесского кичмана02:45