| My Leningraders, you are not my children, no,
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| I’m not Dzhambul, where am I up to the old man, by God.
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| You are my brothers and sisters, and your eyes are the light
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| It illuminates this thorny road in life.
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| My Leningraders, you and pride and pain,
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| Humanity is a crumb and the center of the Universe.
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| I am in the capital of the country and in any village
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| I kneel before your banner.
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| Chorus:
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| Two candles at the table are lights, like beacons of Rostral columns.
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| How many winters, how many years, I, meeting the dawn,
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| I remember you, my dear countrymen.
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| You proudly entered my heart, like ships on parade into the Neva.
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| With you one faith and no need for another,
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| We dream of a city alone far from our native land.
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| I ask fate not to reject me
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| From straight avenues and from a proud statue.
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| And let my heart forever bite the snake,
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| On which the horse rests firmly.
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| Let us talk about hours on Hare Island
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| At noon, with a booming shot, it will remind you of a gun.
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| And let the boat in the sky in full sail
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| Always rushing to the people waiting for him.
|
| Chorus:
|
| Two candles at the table are lights, like beacons of Rostral columns.
|
| How many winters, how many years, I, meeting the dawn,
|
| I remember you, my dear countrymen.
|
| You proudly entered my heart, like ships on parade into the Neva.
|
| With you one faith and no need for another,
|
| We dream of a city alone far from our native land.
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| My Leningraders, you are not my children, no,
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| We have been given one father, and we do not need another.
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| May he forever fly on a hot horse,
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| Until the end of the century, we are the children of Petrova.
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| Until the end of the century, we are the children of Petrova. |