http://a-pesni.golosa.info/ww2/oficial/ogonek.htm
Once again the 'Anarchist's Songbook' page comes to the rescue. Love that site.
Ogonyok is literally a little fire, but it is better rendered in English as a beacon.
The lyrics are by Isakovsky, but the authorship of the melody is disputed. The lyrics were written about a year before the melody made an appearanc in 1943.
Beautiful love song, but the troops came up with their own paradoies about how that as soon as the lad has gone through the fog, she finds another.

ïçïîåë

óÌÏ×Á í. éÓÁËÏ×ÓËÏÇÏ
íÕÚÙËÁ ÎÅÉÚ×ÅÓÔÎÏÇÏ Á×ÔÏÒÁ

îÁ ÐÏÚÉÃÉÉ ÄÅ×ÕÛËÁ
ðÒÏ×ÏÖÁÌÁ ÂÏÊÃÁ,
ôÅÍÎÏÊ ÎÏÞØÀ ÐÒÏÓÔÉÌÁÓÑ
îÁ ÓÔÕÐÅÎØËÁÈ ËÒÙÌØÃÁ.
é ÐÏËÁ ÚÁ ÔÕÍÁÎÁÍÉ
÷ÉÄÅÔØ ÍÏÇ ÐÁÒÅÎÅË,
îÁ ÏËÏÛËÅ ÎÁ ÄÅ×ÉÞØÅÍ
÷ÓÅ ÇÏÒÅÌ ÏÇÏÎÅË.

ðÁÒÎÑ ×ÓÔÒÅÔÉÌÁ ÄÒÕÖÎÁÑ
æÒÏÎÔÏ×ÁÑ ÓÅÍØÑ,
÷ÓÀÄÕ ÂÙÌÉ ÔÏ×ÁÒÉÝÉ,
÷ÓÀÄÕ ÂÙÌÉ ÄÒÕÚØÑ,
îÏ ÚÎÁËÏÍÕÀ ÕÌÉÃÕ
ðÏÚÁÂÙÔØ ÏÎ ÎÅ ÍÏÇ:
"çÄÅ Ö ÔÙ, ÄÅ×ÕÛËÁ ÍÉÌÁÑ,
çÄÅ Ö ÔÙ, ÍÏÊ ÏÇÏÎÅË?"

é ÐÏÄÒÕÇÁ ÄÁÌÅËÁÑ
ðÁÒÎÀ ×ÅÓÔÏÞËÕ ÛÌÅÔ,
þÔÏ ÌÀÂÏ×Ø ÅÅ ÄÅ×ÉÞØÑ
îÉËÏÇÄÁ ÎÅ ÕÍÒÅÔ.
÷ÓÅ, ÞÔÏ ÂÙÌÏ ÚÁÄÕÍÁÎÏ,
÷ Ó×ÏÊ ÉÓÐÏÌÎÉÔÓÑ ÓÒÏË,
îÅ ÐÏÇÁÓÎÅÔ ÂÅÚ ×ÒÅÍÅÎÉ
úÏÌÏÔÏÊ ÏÇÏÎÅË.

é ÓÔÁÎÏ×ÉÔÓÑ ÒÁÄÏÓÔÎÏ
îÁ ÄÕÛÅ Õ ÂÏÊÃÁ
ïÔ ÔÁËÏÇÏ ÈÏÒÏÛÅÇÏ
ïÔ ÅÅ ÐÉÓØÍÅÃÁ.
é ×ÒÁÇÁ ÎÅÎÁ×ÉÓÔÎÏÇÏ
ëÒÅÐÞÅ ÂØÅÔ ÐÁÒÅÎÅË
úÁ ÓÏ×ÅÔÓËÕÀ òÏÄÉÎÕ,
úÁ ÒÏÄÎÏÊ ÏÇÏÎÅË.

AGANYOK

Na pazitzii dyevushka
pravazhala baitza,
tyomnay nochyu prastilasya
na styupyenkakh kryltza.
i paka za tumanami
vidyet mokh paranyok,
na akoshkye na dyevichyem
vsyo garyel aganyok.

Parnya vstryetila druzhnaya
frantavaya semya,
vsyudu byli tavarishi,
vsyudu byli druzya,
no znakomuyu ulitsu
pazabyt on nye mokh:
"gdye zh ty, dyevushka milaya,
gdye zh ty, moy aganyok?"

I padruga dalyokaya
parnyu vyestachku shlyot,
shto lyubov yeyo dyevichya
nikagda nye umryot.
vsyo shto bylo zadumana,
v svoy ispolnitsa srok,
nye pagasnyet byez vryemeni
zalatoy aganyok.

I stanovitsa radostna
na dushye u baitza
at takova kharoshyeva
at yeyo pismyetza.
i vraga nyenavistnava
krypechye byot parenyok
za savyetskuyu rodinu,
za radnoy aganyok.


THE BEACON

To the post a girl
accompanied the fighter,
in the dead of night bid her farewells
on the porch-steps.
Behind the fog
the lad could see,
at the maiden's window
there still burned a beacon.

The lad was warmly welcomed
by the family that was the front,
here, were comrades,
there, were friends,
but the old familiar street
he could not forget:
"where are you, dear girl,
where are you, my beacon?"

And the distant girl friend
to her lads sends word,
that her love for him
will never die.
Everything that was planned,
will come to pass in due time,
the golden beacon,
won't go out before it's time.

And joyful
the fighter's soul has become
from such a good
little letter from her.
and the hated enemy
the lad fights all the harder
for the soviet Motherland,
for his own dear beacon.