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Игорь Тальков. Россия

Россия

Листая старую тетрадь
Расстрелянного генерала
Я тщетно силился понять
Как ты могла себя отдать
На растерзание вандалам.

Из мрачной глубины веков
Ты поднималась исполином
Твой Петербург мирил врагов
Высокой доблестью полков
В век золотой Екатерины.
Россия...

Священной музыкой времён
Над златоглавою Москвою
Струился колокольный звон,
Но, даже самый тихий, он
Кому-то не давал покоя.

А золотые купола
Кому-то чёрный глаз слепили:
Ты раздражала силы зла
И, видно, так их доняла,
Что ослепить тебя решили.
Россия...

Разверзлись с треском небеса,
И с визгом ринулись оттуда,
Срубая головы церквям
И славя красного царя,
Новоявленные иуды.
Тебя связали кумачом
И опустили на колени,
Сверкнул топор над палачом,
А приговор тебе прочёл
Кровавый царь - великий... гений.
Россия...



Oh Russia

I’m ruffling leaves of old notes,
The general was executed,
I failed to reckon what behold
How the country had been sold
And let them all to have you looted

And from Dark Ages you emerged
Like giant to his feet arising
Your Petersburg prevented wars
By the superb effective force
In Catherine-age self-realizing.
Oh Russia

The sacred music of church bells
Lingering over Moscow air
To some it sounded like knell
And even slightest sounds spelled
The radicals to their despair

And golden domes of the Church
Were blinding their failing eye-sight
And irritated Evil’s serfs
To the extent that they decided
To tear your eyes out and to blind you.

Oh, Russia

The skies burst open with a crush
The mob of Judases appeared
Cutting away the churches’ heads
Proclaiming newest leader’s rush
New crucifiers of believers
They tied you down with red flags
They knelt you down to meet death
The carnifex then raised his cleaver
And your death-warrant had been read
By bloodiest king and greatest leader.
Oh, Russia

I’m ruffling leaves of old notes,
The general was executed,
The old hand-written texts, they oath
And resurrect the shot-down truths
They are so hard to be revoked
By generation that was looted.
Oh, Russia
(my continuation)
Again skies opened with a crush,
Again same Judases appeared
They now disguised as democrats
To shreds they Russia’s body tear,
To global aims they onwards rush
Sparing churches that they fear
They think that their aim is near,
But very soon they’ll disappear
Just owing to their tear and wear.