‘Those born in uneventful days,’
Those born in uneventful days,
fail to recall the track.
We – born of Russia’s fearful years –
cannot forget a single thing.
The incinerating age of ashes!
Do you bring news of hope or madness?
The days of war, the days of freedom
have left a blood-red sheen on our faces.
There’s dumbness: the tocsin bell
has forced us to seal our lips.
In our hearts, once full of fire,
extends a fateful emptiness.
Let the croaking ravens soar
on high, above our death-bed –
May those who are worthier,
Behold, O Lord, Your Kingdom!
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