Of dark yellow chests the mixture,
And dilemmas never seen.
Taste of History - not tincture
Of the problems you can't mince.
Goes Oppression of the fascism.
In hell's offspring mirrors trust,
The dark sea of; ; heavy nazies.
things went wrong, the light went out.
Drink the human blood these fascists.
And Continue to abase.
Will they really my Mother
land cover with cerement?
Hear Livonia's deep crying.
We have nothing to rerpent.
From the crevices light-eyed -
Shines like rainbow - Happiness.
It's of Russia - for the payoff.
And the Russians - gold again!
Russia is waiting for offensive
Of light-eyed into the field!
Macedonian bright vistas,
And the Aleksandr's Heights.
Until sandals of Egyptians
For they run and world rotates!
'Snow is coming! ' Pasternak is
Calling - knowing in advance.
Ressurection! And the Master
Code is seen in every sign.
Let's come out of the darkness,
not forgetting who we are
Thin are the Livonia's ices
not ascended, neither fogged.
translation from SVodoley
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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Taste of History! With his story and, her story; all in the name of life. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.