We know what you do with your women -
Don’t fade scars, no need for reminders.
A church, and some kids, and a kitchen.
Oh, look what a noble provider.

The blood is much thicker than water,
On battlefield wasted cold more so.
The children your own to the slaughter
You happy fly, what will be our woe?

Like families, like all the nations -
We're scarred and we're battered - and whose fault?
You're talking help, re-education:
We've never asked for what was not lost.

Tell Kornilov: freezing hell's waiting.
Sweet words count for nought when they're - falsehoods.
The lie can't become truth and stating
Won't help on repeat, rest assured full.

We're fine and will be fine, don't worry.
Who needs foes when kin does despise her?
If you are the only with mercy,
How come world entire is kinder?

Pick counterfeit sympathy, kindness
That badly hides hatred of bitter.
We're still not extreme, but you're mindless:
No hiding the rotten with glitter.

So never - hear - never will brothers
Yourselves and us be: stop, do not plead.
Not sister, sure, you'll be no mother.
We know how those loved by you are free.

I walked a road and met a flower
That rose so proud and high and smiled like Sun.
I asked why she like green hills towered.
"I'm warm and happy, days mine just begun!"

I walked again and met the flower
With broken leaves and blossoms charred and dead
In widest field of ash, blood sour:
"I'm strong and fearless, no one me will bend!"

I cried and asked why she is raising
Her head if only fire will attend.
She said of horsemen bitter raging:
"I've seen this many times and rise again!"

I left, years later met the flower
Proud in a field of many sad white skulls.
They wept but voice of hers was louder:
"I'm warm and happy, and my days did come!"

We don't like traitors very much.

Those are stolen expanses,
Ripped and blood-stained the land.
Death through long lashes glances
Master, was the crash grand?

None in world loves a Russian -
One can't verse lie to truth.
You don't like this discussion.
Well, we don't like it too.

Does the cold hell have spare map
To point out what's not yours?
They won't drink kvas, my dear chap,
Traitor's end - hope it hurts.

Neither crocs of the green hides,
Nor the waters of Nile
Bow to cheated and faked pride,
In the deference file.

Dallas laughed at your white shirt,
Warsaw mocked you as well.
Do the cuffs hold the spare dirt -
It's all neat where you dwelled.

You desired to drive tank -
Even car was too much.
Master, how looks the fair Prague
From the Satan's fields blush?

Speakers won't bleat the anthem
Of the killers and thugs.
But they might just at random
Mock your end and that's just.

It's at the darkest hour
One must keep marching on.
For those who shy and cower
As crowns don chains and bonds.

Each walk a path of carpet 
Soft with a joyous spring.
But shards and marbles hardest
Cut heroes' feet - they sing.

The unforgiving minute
Is all if not held out
Against her vicious visits
And shaking licks of doubt.

Was there a war that was won
With bowed head and white flag?
By laying down meek one's guns,
Trade courage for fear's rags?

A resolute and cheerful
Or trembling in one's boots?
Not candle but a missile
Comes snuffing the cheap truce.

When night spares no conclusion,
What then? Keep going forth.
There is no revolution
If rebel jilts his force.

If all can count on only
And only on the all,
What is the blaze unholy
Before the will of bold?

A man against the world brave,
Stood lone before fates dim.
And universe in cold rage
Came then to stand with him.

Was there ever an orc in Mordor that didn't fancy himself an elf?

Listen there, I have a joke.
There's a country full of snow.
Sometimes snowflakes beeped and spoke -
Strong men prison did them show.

Nation great it thinks itself -
Kingdom god's and kingdom Christ's.
See, the latter truly felt:
Genocide is man's best right.

Speech is free until it's not:
Oh, my darling party line.
Many more will soon be caught -
Democratic, leader fine.

All pigs equal, some - more so.
Four legs good but better two.
Tsar rules just and tsar does know
Few to love and many screw.

Tanks are getting less and less
For parades, for red, wide squares.
One of many played the chess,
Others sort abroad their fares.

What a nuisance - protests new.
Quick, police, quick - mop them up.
Grandmas plotting violent coup,
Children twisted and corrupt.

Army's short but gulag - not.
Thought crimes merit harshest price.
If the cells left not a lot,
Then the rockets will suffice.

Noblest kind of grandest ilk -
Gods don't ponder on the rights.
Word of one is mother's milk,
That of many is a plight.

The seed that's brought low to the ground
Arises on a kiss of rain.
Who waits, sees wheels of fate around
Turn and to flowers bloom the grain.

One day the hills will throw the chains
Down, scourge will scourge itself away.
Who sucks own blood, sucks dry the veins.
The slavers don't outlast today.

It's not the one that seeks to rule,
Subdue by honey or by sword
That wakes the world's throne to assume -
The one that shares gets the reward.

One day the sky will breathe relief
When violent crumble on themselves.
The universe won't birth a thief
To rob the freedom from her welds.

The prison walls are borrowed, thick,
Ill-tempered, flimsy, high on tears.
None yet to bake immortal bricks,
To cage those that to be men dare.

One day the sun will shine on waste
That called itself an empire great
And same rays will a brother grace
Free and will rest the raging fates.

The eyes that don't see are the eyes that convict.
And dead leaves of future - they wander adrift.
The smiles of the monsters bear soft hands of men
With brown eyes - oh, gentle - and mercy of wren.

And Stutthof stands next to Berlin.

The ears that don't hear are the ears that forget
The Syrian desert sands soothing bereft.
They were but the men and the men are but gods.
Yet, gods are the men and the men's are their bonds.

And Stutthof stands next to Berlin.

The tongues that don't speak are the tongues that speak ill.
A silence is lie if it's silence at will.
See, none wants to die but then what is the cost:
If one asks the worst, it's the good who's at fault.

And Stutthof stands next to Berlin.

But I have seen the people
Without a human spirit.
A murderous foul eagle -
Its wings wished end no limit.

A god they had with their deeds -
The deity of wastelands.
Their mothers prayed that wombs breed
With rifles fruitful fine hands.

But I have seen the people
Most fertile in the murder.
Small hearts their held the dearest
Proud monsters and they served them.

The titans grand, forgiving
With blood absolving fancy.
The world's worth only giving
With cheer to slavers worthy.

But I have seen the people
Who only smile at children.
They must be cold and beetles
Must pick their flesh in crimson.

Love's true with hatred flavoured:
Who cherishes without blows?
A man's most noble nature
Demands to others great woes.

But I have seen the people
With splendid, awesome visions.
The dreams were only lethal,
The agony - religion.

Some skies bear not a faint star,
Its tapestry unfolds hell.
The knights - they went wide, went far -
No soul that in these plains dwell.

But I have seen the people,
The tiny against mighty.
Unflinching hearts with needles
Raised at the rockets grimy.

The mornings brought the fire -
It warmed no home to comfort.
Defender was a liar
And brother jumped to kill first.

But I have seen the people,
Wrath blazing in their dark eyes.
The harsh, the vicious seagulls
Pecked giants ten times their size.

The land is with the wails lit.
Still, echoes tune in render.
If sparrow's left to sing it,
There will be no surrender.

But I have seen the people
Who melt the tears to bullets.
And guns of theirs most gleeful
Fly justice in its fullest.

The flags fly, winds courageous
Howl angry, without mercy.
How much more one's tenacious
When foe for death comes thirsty?

But I have seen the people,
The soldier lasts for freedom.
The one where all are equal
Shamed that most strong of leaders.

The glory shrouds the brave palls.
Who hoped and guarded - not gone.
If not for all and every,
What is it there to fight for?

We ride at dawn -
What shall we die for?
The children born
Of quiet shore.

If nothing's left -
What's that we fight for?
A wind bereft
And spoils of war?

If there's no point -
What do we hope for?
A justice crook's,
A killer's peace?

If all is lost -
What's that we rise for?
A blink of frost
That waves and pours.

If good is moot -
What do we stand for?
An owl's proud hoot
And friendly door.

If they have won -
What's that we shout for?
A minute one
Than all them more.

We ride at dawn -
What shall we die for?
A ray fast gone,
Undying forged.

Together we won't be forever,
No matter how many flags bloodied you raise.
The ties inexistant are severed
That never have been, first of all, throw bouquets.

The concerts in Moscow loud bleating,
Red sheep, patriotic, in squares try on crowns.
But luck of the tyrant is fleeting
And courage of righteous its head does not bow.

Damp bunkers rot well in Berlin and
In lonely, poor wastelands, bereft god-picked lands.
Cold ink on the paper the will shunned,
Black bullet in gun the one favour commands.

The lies are not truth when repeated.
The truth is not lie when it's branded as such.
How many times hurt - not defeated -
For armies of cravens one noble's - too much.

They don't burn the books but the rubbish,
Words spelled by deceiving don't grace leaves of time.
The fates don't forgive and they punish:
The reasons don't turn the crime to not a crime.

Grey mountain peaks coddle the vultures -
They see and they never take flight to their rest.
You just hold your breath and your sculptures
Will topple like waterfall drops off the crest.

Together we won't be forever -
Hug banners of yours, hold them tight: they will crash.
We haven't been friends whatsoever:
No friendship rise where death and hate stand the last.

Oh, the faster it flies, well, the brighter it burns.
And the arms of the mountains flail, shudder enraged.
The one treading worn path and dull - never he learns.

Pray, tell: who is the one by whose hand is war waged?
The one grey, disappearing, the metal, the nail?
But the marvels of night are most wondrous in blaze.

Boughs of toplars straight shadow unyielding red trails.
Small and great rocks and pebbles - they measure a crown.
For the guests uninvited on poisoned feast ale.

Like below, so above, like the king, so the clown.
Earth that rumbled without cause then shakes in revenge.
The rich feathers of phoenix shine past all the bounds.

Does with fear land's vexed dancing worm-ridden tongues tinge?
Sleep comes easy when miles keep one from one's misdeeds.
But the ghosts skip past hill just like they skip a trench.