We know what trembles in the scales,
What has to be accomplished.
The hour for courage. If all else fails,
With courage we are not unfurnished.
What though the dead be crowded, each to each,
What though our houses be destroyed? —
We will preserve you, Russian speech,
Keep you alive, great Russian word.
We will pass you to our sons and heirs
Free and clean, and they in turn to theirs,
And so forever.
Мы знаем, что́ ныне лежит на весах
И что́ совершается ныне.
Час мужества про́бил на наших часах,
И мужество нас не покинет.
Не страшно под пулями мёртвыми лечь,
Не горько остаться без крова.
И мы сохраним тебя, русская речь,
Великое русское слово.
Свободным и чистым тебя пронесём,
И внукам дадим, и от плена спасём —
Навеки!
«February. Get ink, shed tears. / Write of it, sob your heart out, sing, / While torrential slush that roars / Burns in the blackness of the spring. Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas, / Race through the noice of bells and wheels / To where the ink and all you grieving / Are muffled ...»
«February. Get ink. Weep. / Write the heart out about it. Sing / Another song of February / While raucous slush burns black with spring. Six grivnas* for a buggy ride / Past booming bells, on screaming gears, / Out to a place where rain pours down / Louder than any ink or tears Where li...»
«I think about the morning of your glory, / About the morning of your days too, when / Like a demon you from sleep had stirred / And were a god for men. I think of when your eyebrows came together / Over the burning torches of your eyes, / Of how the ancient blood's eternal lava / Rushed...»
«Who's made of stone, who's made of mud, / And I'm made from silver and shine. / My act is betrayal, my name is Marina, / The fragile sea foam am I. Who is made from mud, who is made from flesh — / There's coffin and coffin plates.. / Baptized in a sea font and unceasingly / Broken in ...»