Quietly tired Black Sea breathes,
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Reflecting a hundred moons in the unsteady reflections of the wave.
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And the sky does not seem to argue with reality,
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Or does it seem to me from the outside?
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This is Crimea, and honestly, this is Russia!
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This is the Crimea, there is only Russian speech everywhere.
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This is Crimea, here the names are painfully familiar -
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Simferopol and Yalta, Sevastopol and Kerch.
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This land will never be divided again.
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What is bound by blood cannot be torn apart.
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You cannot attach crosses to other people's banners.
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The rest is just stupidity, but a cunning lie.
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This is Crimea, and honestly, this is Russia!
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This is the Crimea, there is only Russian speech everywhere.
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This is Crimea, here the names are painfully familiar -
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Simferopol and Yalta, Sevastopol and Kerch.
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Whatever happens, we will be together, of course.
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How many wars there were, how many victories there were!
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Here is the Holy Land, here is Russia forever.
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Only in this way, not otherwise, and there is no choice.
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This is Crimea, and honestly, this is Russia!
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This is the Crimea, there is only Russian speech everywhere.
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This is Crimea, here the names are painfully familiar -
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Simferopol and Yalta, Sevastopol and Kerch.
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This is Crimea, and honestly, this is Russia!
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This is the Crimea, there is only Russian speech everywhere.
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This is Crimea, here the names are painfully familiar -
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Simferopol and Yalta, Sevastopol and Kerch. |