V. Shainsky, M. Matusovsky

Dozing off the quiet northern city, Low sky above your head, What are you dreaming about, cruiser "Aurora" At the hour when morning rises over the Neva. What do you dream, cruiser "Aurora" At the hour when morning rises over the Neva. Maybe you are again in the clouds of furry Flashes of guns you see in the distance Or, as before, in black pea jackets your patrols are menacingly walking. Or, as before, your patrols are walking in black pea jackets. The waves are steep, storms are gray-haired, Such a share is in ships, Their fates are also somewhat similar, Something similar to the fates of people. Open spaces breathe in the salty wind, Lightnings baptize thunderstorm darkness, What do you dream of, cruiser "Aurora", At the hour when morning rises over the Neva. What do you dream, cruiser "Aurora", At the hour when morning rises over the Neva.