Текст песни Олександр Довженко - Мати

Alexander Dovzhenko
HAVE
      Not happy tears and despair and sorrow, not a sign of bitter curse, they are cursed and so all the world, for the glory of our race and written in the name of love on this high death.
      Although many of us are destined memorable losses, though easier to eyes read something soft and sweet among thunders, read about Stoyan mother Mary.
      Who among the corpses of enemy running through the village that already burns?
      Who is groaning racing? Whose heart stuhonyt chest like want to jump ahead?
      It Basil with a gun and bombs, Mary Stoyanyhy son.
      Who circle dead hanging houses under the sky?
      This is his mother.
      Runs Basil, all wet from a long battle, running in great anxiety. As he fought to the native village! Scout was destroyed point grenade blew bunker that was once for Uncle house. Keep pace enemy. Run Vasily whole village, all that once was called the village. Two hundred pechysch, burned orchards, cherep'ya, pits and many enemies in bahnyschi stiffened and blood.
      - Mom, where are you? It's me, Basil, alive! Ivan killed Mom, and I'm alive ... I killed them, Mom, about two hundred ... Where are you? ..
      Basil ran to the court. Here was a court beneath the mountain.
      - Mom, my mother where are you? My Mother, why did you not strichayete me? Why can not hear your voice quiet? Where are you, dear, my mother gray?
      Basil circle stood houses and houses there. Basil the yard - no yard. In the garden - no garden. Only one old pear and pear to have.
      Oh ... oh the horror quiet sadness unforgettable ...
      When she was still alive and had a whole house edge of the village, a fierce winter blizzard at midnight once something was knocking at the door.
      - Who's there?
      - Totushka, Suffer little, pohibayem ...
      - What are you, my dear, are you from?
      - We are Russians, totushka. We are his. Pilots! We have fallen.
      - Lord, son, go hurry. I close the door ... Did no one see? Germans also full.
      We went, arm in arm, to house two cripples. Fell down, fell asleep immediately and slept half the day. I thought - died.
      Already feet and washed them with hot water and a rough natopyla, warmed about three times food - sleep. I cried night and day, remembering their sons John and Basil. Who will feed them who pryhriye in hard times? Where they are? Maybe somewhere are already in the field, as glass, or hanging on the gallows in German captivity and crows peck their eyes in the cold. And no one in all respects but did not ask, do not cry! .. So much death around. Children, children ...
      Pshenytsyn Stepan and Kostya were both Ryabov from the Urals. They belonged to that breed of Russian youth, which for many centuries will be the subject of study and deep surprise historians great tragedy. Unshaven, burned by frost, violent winds and adventurous life, they angrily moaning in his sleep and breathing hard. The war stirred their souls in a dream, the war ... They were simple Ural young men as educated, hardworking with good Komsomol working families. In war they did not want to go, but they did not cry and did not hide from it in good Ruthenian custom. They went to the front as volunteers to quickly get to the enemy and destroy it. Pilots are altogether quick and as simple and easy as it could become submariners or snipers. Nature gave their all in good measure. And they were very good.
      - At first, my mother, we had a long hatyly Krauts heavy bombs, and assigned us to the cultural and educational work. Not like us, however, should be well - commandment.
      - What is it for such work? - Stoyanyha asked when one night they talked for a long time thus quietly in a dark hut.
      - We dropped leaflets over Ukraine - said Pshenytsyn.- people to know the truth about the war.
      - So this is you? .. Oh do great work, my dear, -zithnula Stoyanyha.- Where there is a bomb, let them hell. The great thing good news in captivity. And the same darkness around, and so people slain head sly Nazi lie that live and mind. As if all over the world, think ...
      Here for the first time, listening to simple words enslaved mother earth, exclusion