“Тёмная ночь (Dark Night)” Mark Bernes

Dark night, only bullets are whistling on the steppe
Only the wind is wailing through the telephone wires, stars are faintly flickering
In the dark night, my love, I know you are not sleeping
And, near a child’s crib, you secretly wipe away a tear

How I love the depths of your gentle eyes
How I long to press my lips to them
This dark night separates us, my love
And the dark, troubled steppe has come to lie between us

I have faith in you, in you, my sweetheart
That faith has shielded me from bullets in this dark night
I am glad, I am calm in deadly battle
I know you will meet me with love, no matter what happens

Death is not terrible, we’ve met with it more than once in the steppe
And here it looms over me once again
You await my return, sitting sleepless near a cradle
And so I know that nothing will happen to me

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