Poruchik Ivanov (BG)
Where are you now, poruchik Ivanov?
You go out on Parade with no pants;
You wander there, divinely naked,
You're dawned upon trolleybus arc;
When you go home from Parade,
Your neighbors hide in bushes.
Your revolver, shining like a diamond,
Always was embarrassing to my gentle eye.
And on nights is lit your candle,
When you strangle bedbugs in a temper,
And trample down flies with heavy boot…
Don't let me Lord become your enemy.
And on nights is lit your candle,
When you strangle bedbugs in a temper,
And trample down flies with heavy boot,
Don't let me Lord become your enemy…
Where are you now, poruchik Ivanov?
You go out on Parade with no pants;
You wander there, divinely naked,
You're dawned upon trolleybus arc;
When you go home from Parade,
Your neighbors hide in bushes.
Your revolver, shining like a diamond,
Always was embarrassing to my gentle eye.
And on nights is lit your candle,
When you strangle bedbugs in a temper,
And trample down flies with heavy boot…
Don't let me Lord become your enemy.
And on nights is lit your candle,
When you strangle bedbugs in a temper,
And trample down flies with heavy boot,
Don't let me Lord become your enemy…