Ах вот они где, хранители традиций

[Thorward]

У нас, наверное, уже далеко не каждый песню вспомнит, не то что спеть под настроение...

[Sergey1]

очень даже не плохо

[Thorward]

Прям народно-застольная песня

[HAL]

офигеть... а вот наши хранители традиций...

[poptank]

А вот и по английски песня танкистов



землянка

катюша


Наша(Вечная память героям!)
Гимн защиты Отечества

[Bastshoe]

"По полю танки грохотали" (4-ый клип) имеет две версии перевода. Здесь дана первая версия.
Кому интересно могу дать тексты этих вариантов.
Но самые показательные последние 7 секунд ....
Обратил в истиную веру )))

[нафаня]

[QUOTE=Bustshoe;14287...Кому интересно могу дать тексты этих вариантов...[/QUOTE]

Выложи плиз! Интересно было бы прочитать.

[Bastshoe]

Андрюха! Специально для тебя )))

They'll lift us from beneath the wreckage
Remove our bodies from the fray
While fire and thunder from the cannons
Escort us on our final way

And telegrams will set a-flying
To notify our next of kin:
Your son will never be returning
On leave he won't be stopping in

His mother wails in the corner
His father swats a creeping tear
His love will never know for certain
What fate befell her tanker dear

A photo on her shelf will linger
Among the yellowed books forlorn
In tanker's garment, epaulets on
And fiancé to her no more.

Вариант как в клипе, выложенного Poptanком:

The tanks were rattling like a thunder
The soldiers went to final fight
And here they carried young commander
With head all broken outright
His tank was hit with armor-piercer
So say good-bye to Guardian crew
Just four more corpses in the hillside
Will add to fair morning view
'Cause now the vehicle is a-burning
Wait for the shells to detonate
You wanna live to see this morning
But you're too weak and it's too late
So they'll extract you from the remains
They'll put your coffin on the clay
And fire & thunder from the main guns
Will see you into your last way
For now the telegrams are flying
To tell the friends and relatives
That their good son is never coming
And never getting any leave
And there's that photo on the bookshelf
Collecting dust for years on end –
In uniform, with shoulder-boards on...
And he will never be her man.
In unifo-orm, wI-EEEEEEth
shoul-der-bo-ards OOOOOOOn...
And he will never be her man.

[нафаня]

Спасибо! Полез в Google за переводом...

[Bastshoe]

А чего туда лезть?
Слова то все знают, песня народная.....