One hundred overwintered winters
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A hundred by a hundred broken boots in the mud
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Every day with food on the table
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Every time forgetting to hurt
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Every attack passed
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In any weather, in any power
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All this lies deep in me
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I have inherited my life
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The dispossessed trudge to Siberia
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On carts and dragged up the Ob
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Fate weaves with every step
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In a foreign land - this is not yet in coffins
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For some reason they decided that they would not die
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Burrowing underground, they hollowed out the frozen ground
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A snowstorm will cover the dugout with white palms
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They breathe hard in it, they say, they give birth to children
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People in dugouts are like seeds in a furrow
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A village will rise, taking possession of a point on the map
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Fresh log cabins will settle, but the men will leave
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To an unrealistically distant, but personal war
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To survive the one who is not familiar to them
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To survive on our own and return on foot
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Europe will remain enlightened thanks to
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Uncouth peasants, hunters, rangers
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The winners are already sleeping eternal sleep in the grass
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Survivors return to finish the war
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Mine, heal, knit sheaves
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Raise an empire from a nameless crowd
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Organize life during and after revolutions
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How to keep a relic number in the queue for benefits
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How many people, and in what regions
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Continued in each other so that I was born?
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The river of life is expanding
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The creek sings
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Reaching for the sun through the centuries
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Tribe of our tree
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Epochs are rushing by
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And crumble around
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Flags with uniforms, like foliage
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From the millennium oak
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Leaves just for the season
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Form, currency, citizenship
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Dropping countless crowns
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We keep being born
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Crying baby in her arms
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The creek sings
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Our river of life is expanding
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A tree reaches for the sun
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There is a large cemetery in the abandoned village
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The old rotten graves are still there
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I make my way deeper through the thickets, bushes
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Where life rumbled, there was a quiet wasteland
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The wives greeted the hunters by throwing open the shutters,
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But the movie ended, the cinema hall was abandoned by everyone
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Only in spring the branches turn green under the sun
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The bones of people are lying, from whom I am pieced together
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There, the great-grandmother and great-grandfather in the photo are harsh
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They came to Siberia during the Holodomor
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And knowing them, I know who I am
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Cracked pictures - there are six children in families
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How they all lived, I would like to find out for sure
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I draw an ancestral tree on a piece of leaf
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Instead of a river, there will be a mouth
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In ten years there will be no cemetery here, let's say
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In twenty years someone will be electrocuted by death
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And it will be even more difficult for us to get to the origins
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I will write myself in the book of relatives
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And I will raise my torch - they can see my lights from above
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The river of life is expanding
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The creek sings
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Reaching for the sun through the centuries
|
Tribe of our tree
|
Epochs are rushing by
|
And crumble around
|
Flags with uniforms, like foliage
|
From the millennium oak
|
Leaves just for the season
|
Form, currency, citizenship
|
Dropping countless crowns
|
We keep being born
|
Crying baby in her arms
|
The creek sings
|
Our river of life is expanding
|
A tree reaches for the sun |