Nikolay Tikhonov
Where firs by snow all silvered stand...

Where firs by snow all silvered stand,
Where palms grow in the golden south,
From home to home, from land to land,
His words pass on from mouth to mouth.

On shores both near and far away,
By more than one new generation
In all five continents, today
His name is held in veneration.

He is enthroned in peoples' hearts,
And is beloved in every clime.
In one, though, he commenced his path
Unheard of since the birth of time.

A land where grief and fury reigned,
Where peals of brewing thunder rolled,
And where he loved his native tongue,
Its mines of eloquence untold.

He loved her skies, her steppes so vast,
Her mounting wind of liberty...
What can be nobler than to love
One's native land as Lenin did.

Translated by Louis Zellikoff