Why did they destroy the monuments to Stalin?
For they would remind us of yesterday.
Grandiose, created and left by a serious, respected leader.
At any time as in the days of yore
to stand on the dead - God forbid!
In Russia, according to the ancient law
it is improper to disturb a dead man.
To walk on the dead was frowned upon,
To disturb the grave was a sin.
Such is the history that was left to us -
To Russia it was always something predestined.
And what greatness it had achieved!
My grandfather once told me - mark this down
They say - it's all cult and cult ...
Yes, there was such a person
And therefore, surely, there was a cult.
And whatever you will talk about him,
however you judge bitterly and in anger,
He left his greatcoat, worn-out tunic -
and, yes, even his patched felt boots.
But he left also a mighty country
With such authority in the world,
that my dear, you cannot hide the fact.
Just imagine yourself, even for a moment, in the Kremlin.
And for all that, that was behind his lips
could only come from him alone.
- What are you, Stalin?
I am not yet steel -
he often said to his son.
And on the sacred stone tribunal
on a grey frosted November Seventh
He believed in those, who believed in June,
talking calmly, of victory to come.
What kind of nature was boiling in him,
and how he gigantically understood,
When the health of the Russian people
He was raising high above the world!
Could it be true that gloomily and darkly
he was murdering the Russian tongue
What truth he, as a ruler, was carrying away
in his speckled worn-out fist?
It was the truth and not the glory
that was primarily standing behind him in his rule
it could not be knocked down from the pedestal,
it could not be buried even in the Kremlin.
As we, the children of the great change, knew the truth,
as children of fatherless and war
in the cities of brick buildings and on the street beds of straw
We were saved by his smile.
Possibly we loved with no response -
such loved cannot be touched by decay.
We loved Stalin wholeheartedly,
what faith they gave us in response?
We believed but they were killing our belief...
But this disbelief is thrice painful
and "Stalin is our fighting glory"
we sang with challenge and anger.
We finally grew tired of such disbelief
and came to the point of perceiving it all.
But our concern is our affair
as if they are hurting our Mom, our Mother.
As the truth which is crossed out by the blood
of our fathers uninvented times
is our truth, vital truth, filial truth,
We would feel much worse if we did not have him.
We are a very special generation,
Our task is to bring the flame and incandescence
so again will it imposingly blaze "Lenin",
so again will brightly shine the "International".
Russia is falling upon our shoulders,
it is relying on us to-day,
So think well, our very special boys
because nobody else is doing the thinking for us.
So be our steps exact and powerful!
And this is our faith and not an idle shout.
For this faith laid their heads the very best
and perished at the hands of enemies
and of our own ilk.
And who was walking on the floor of Lenin Mausoleum
And was receiving special rations?
But if one will ask our generation
Did Bolsheviks, generally speaking,
really exist?
I knew them. They raised me.
On the door shone brightly the sign "Partkom"
Yes, undernourished builders of Russia.
I was also a Bolshevik from childhood
As everyone else, I was nibbling the
seeds of oilcake with great appetite.
I was happy
and I was also as proud as everyone else.
I am his son. And I am not objective -
You see, it's not just someone I am speaking of, but of my father.
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