MY FAVORITE SONGWRITER - BULAT OKUDZHAWA

                                                                                                                                                    This is a song by my very favorite Russian balladeer with a very difficult to pronounce name: Bulat Okudzhawa. His parents were from Georgia. No, not the American South Georgia! They were from a small country in the South of the former Soviet Union. We pronounced it: 'Gruziya. Bulat lived in and loved Moscow, though, for most of his creative carrier. 

     All evening I was listening to his, seemingly, insignificant, small voice on YouTube and watched his face as he sang. What is it that made so many of us love him and his songs and go to any trouble to find more of them, to go and hear his underground concerts? You can see it in his face, if you are really looking: despite all the atheistic conditioning, - the very intense inner, spiritual even, life! Soft sound of his voice talked to us about things that were kept secret from us, but could not be suppressed: God, love, heart, love, God.

     This song is not his best, - they are all wonderful, - but it's very heartfelt. Perhaps, a video will help you feel what it's all about.                



     Get Your Overcoat, Let's Go Home

You and I, my brother, are the infantrymen.
And it's better in the summer than in the winter.
We closed all accounts with the war,
We closed all accounts with the war!
Get your overcoat, let's go home!

The war bent and mowed us under,
Now the end came to it as well.
Four years mothers are without their sons,
Four years mothers are without their sons!
Get your overcoat, let's go home!

To the soot and ashes of our streets
Again, again, my friend,
The, once missing, starlings have returned,
The, once missing, starlings have returned!
Get your overcoat, let's go home!

But with your eyes closed,
You sleep under a plywood star...
Get up, get up, mate,
Get up, get up, mate!
Get your overcoat, let's go home!

What am I going to tell to your loved ones?
How will I stand in front of your widow?
Should I swear by the days of the past,
Should I swear by the days of the past?
Get your overcoat, let's go home!

All of us are the war's crazy children:
From a general to a soldier.
Spring's come back to the bright, beautiful world,
Spring's come back to the bright, beautiful world!
Get your overcoat, let's go home!