The meaning of the lyrics of the song "About Afghanistan" (Pro Afganistan) the performer of the song "Mikhail Krug"

And I don't want to stare at this foreign horizon for long,

The scorching sun has set behind the mosque, Kobzon has left for Russia.

He sang Vysotsky to us and adjusted his sweat-soaked wig,

And we sang along: 'When you fell from the cliffs, I cried, old man...'

How rare are the hours when a bullet doesn't strike a song.

But the wounds won't have time to cool, and in the evening, we're back on patrol.

And after the battle, I cried, I couldn't help it, my hands trembled as I lit a cigarette:

I saw them carry away the remains of Vitka and a zinc coffin.

And there, at the crossroads, the grass is trampled, and in it an anthill of cartridges.

Kolya, my fellow countryman, a wild head, he molded dushmans like a raven.

But a stupid bullet pierced his temple, and Kolya nodded his head,

And his mother begged: 'Kolya, son, say you'll come back alive!'

In Afghanistan today there is good news: the order is out, we'll be home soon,

But the heart will remain here in thought, and there is no joy in being alive.

I will come to Tver from the Afghan fields, here at home it is warm and bright,

And as soon as I open the familiar door, I will say: 'Mom, you are lucky!'

А мне так не хочется долго глядеть на этот чужой горизонт,

Палящее солнце зашло за мечеть, в Россию уехел Кобзон.

Он пел нам Высоцкого и поправлял свой потом облитый парик,

А мы подпевали: "Когда ты упал со скал, я заплакал, старик..."

Как редко бывают такие часы, когда пуля песню не бьёт.

Но раны за них не успеют остыть, и вечером снова с поход.

А я после боя заплакал, не смог, и руки тряслись прикурить:

Я видел, как витькины и цинковый гроб останки несли хоронить.

А там, у развилки примята трава, и в ней муравейник патрон.

Колюха, земляк, буйная голова, душманов лепил, как ворон.

Но глупая пуля пробила висок, и Колька кивнул головой,

А мать ведь просила: "Николка, сынок, скажи, что вернёшься живой!"

В Афгане сегодня хорошая весть: приказ вышел, скоро домой,

Но сердце останется мысленно здесь, и радости нет, что живой.

Приеду я в Тверь из афганских полей, здесь дома тепло и светло,

И только открою знакомую дверь, скажу: "Мам, тебе повезло!"

Mikhail Krug's song "Afghanistan" is a poignant story about war through the eyes of an ordinary soldier. The lyrics intertwine longing for home, the horrors of war, and the bitter joy of the survivors.

Feelings of the lyrical hero:

Longing for home: "And I don't want to look at this foreign horizon for long". Foreign land, foreign landscapes — everything reminds of home, of Russia. The image of Kobzon leaving, singing Vysotsky, intensifies the longing for native culture, for everything that is dear and close.

Horrors of war: "But their wounds won't have time to cool down, and in the evening we'll be back on the march", "And after the battle I cried, I couldn't help it, and my hands were shaking as I lit a cigarette." The author does not romanticize war, does not talk about exploits. He shows its unsightly truth — blood, death, fear.

Death of comrades: "I saw them carrying Vitya's remains in a zinc coffin", "But a stupid bullet pierced his temple, and Kolka nodded his head." The death of comrades is one of the most difficult experiences in war. The author shows that behind every death there is someone's life, someone's dreams and hopes.

Bitter joy of the survivor: "There is good news in Afghanistan today: the order has come, we are going home soon, But my heart will remain here in my thoughts, and there is no joy in being alive." The soldier is glad to be returning, but his joy is overshadowed by memories of the war and fallen friends. "My heart will remain here" is both a tribute and an admission that the war has left an eternal mark on the hero's soul.

Symbolism:

Foreign horizon: Symbolizes the alienation, hostility of a foreign land, longing for home.

Bullets don't hit songs: A temporary lull, a respite that cannot erase the horrors of war from memory.

Crushed grass and an anthill cartridge: The contrast between peaceful life and war, a reminder that death is always near.

"Mom, you're lucky!": A bitter realization that he survived not by luck, but at the cost of the lives of his comrades.

Mikhail Krug's song is not just a song about the war in Afghanistan. It is a song about war as such, about its inhumanity and senselessness, about the price that people pay for the ambitions of others.