Farewell Slavyanka - Kuban Cossack Choir
Farewell Slavyanka - Kuban Cossack Choir
Poem of a Russian soldier:
Mom, I'm a prisoner, but don't cry.
Darned, now like new.
I was treated by a Kherson doctor
Tired, strict and stern.
Treated me. Do you hear, mom:
I hit the city from the "Gradov",
And half the hospital is just in the trash,
But he treated me: "That's how it should be."
Mom, I'm a monster, I'm sorry.
In the streams of lies we got lost.
All my life I have to bear this cross.
Now my eyes are open.
We were taken to the places
where the shells hit.
And we did not believe our eyes:
What have we done with Kherson!
The hospitals are full of wounded.
Here everyone curses Russians.
Father, whiter than a sheet,
Shakes a dead child.
Mother, I am a monster, an executioner.
And there are no terrorists here, mother.
There is only human groaning and crying,
And we are more terrible for them than the Nazis.
We, mothers, were sent to be slaughtered,
The battalion commander did not feel sorry for us.
Then a Kherson man shouted to me: “Stop!
Get down, you brat!" - and further mother.
He didn't want to shoot me.
He is a Human and I am a killer.
Taken out of battle! Hear, mother,
Me, the murderer, the bloodsucker!
Mom, I'm a prisoner, but don't cry.
Darned, now like new.
I was treated by a Kherson doctor
Tired, strict, and stern.
He performed his medical duty,
And I, burning with shame,
For the first time I could think:
Who needs such a war?
Poem of a Russian soldier:
Mom, I'm a prisoner, but don't cry.
Darned, now like new.
I was treated by a Kherson doctor
Tired, strict and stern.
Treated me. Do you hear, mom:
I hit the city from the "Gradov",
And half the hospital is just in the trash,
But he treated me: "That's how it should be."
Mom, I'm a monster, I'm sorry.
In the streams of lies we got lost.
All my life I have to bear this cross.
Now my eyes are open.
We were taken to the places
where the shells hit.
And we did not believe our eyes:
What have we done with Kherson!
The hospitals are full of wounded.
Here everyone curses Russians.
Father, whiter than a sheet,
Shakes a dead child.
Mother, I am a monster, an executioner.
And there are no terrorists here, mother.
There is only human groaning and crying,
And we are more terrible for them than the Nazis.
We, mothers, were sent to be slaughtered,
The battalion commander did not feel sorry for us.
Then a Kherson man shouted to me: “Stop!
Get down, you brat!" - and further mother.
He didn't want to shoot me.
He is a Human and I am a killer.
Taken out of battle! Hear, mother,
Me, the murderer, the bloodsucker!
Mom, I'm a prisoner, but don't cry.
Darned, now like new.
I was treated by a Kherson doctor
Tired, strict, and stern.
He performed his medical duty,
And I, burning with shame,
For the first time I could think:
Who needs such a war?