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The song should be something like a march
The orchestra is stimming and there is no chance to play the falsetto
The cello enters the quiet sapat of the drums
You can hear the string and the screeching of the bow
The awakening of early spring and the gentle pain in the chest
And the song is such that it can be sung
Then the most beautiful female voices enter
The support is given by the united basses
And the crash of summer thunder and cannonades
Like Tchaikovsky a thousand eight hundred and twelfth
Awakening of early spring and a slight pain in the chest
And the song is such that it can be sung
Then decisively male voices enter
All veterans, forgotten aces
With heart of a young falcon and a song of a coot
The earth that gave birth to a river smells
The awakening of early spring and a slight pain in the chest
And the song is such that one can march