Блок Скифы на английском Я Ватник разная политота
Scythians
You are millions. We are hordes and hordes and hordes.
Try and take us on!
Yes, we are Scythians! Yes, we are Asians -
With slanted and greedy eyes!
For you, the ages, for us a single hour.
We, like obedient slaves,
Held up a shield between two enemy races -
The Tatars and Europe!
For ages and ages your old furnace raged
And drowned out the roar of avalanches,
And Lisbon and Messina's fall
To you was but a monstrous fairy tale!
For hundreds of years you gazed at the East,
Storing up and melting down our jewels,
And, jeering, you merely counted the days
Until your cannons you could point at us!
The time is come. Trouble beats its wings -
And every day our grudges grow,
And the day will come when every trace
Of your Paestums may vanish!
O, old world! While you still survive,
While you still suffer your sweet torture,
Come to a halt, sage as Oedipus,
Before the ancient riddle of the Sphinx!
Russia is a Sphinx. Rejoicing, grieving,
And drenched in black blood,
It gazes, gazes, gazes at you,
With hatred and with love!
It has been ages since you've loved
As our blood still loves!
You have forgotten that there is a love
That can destroy and burn!
We love all - the heat of cold numbers,
The gift of divine visions,
We understand all - sharp Gallic sense
And gloomy Teutonic genius
We remember all - the hell of Parisian streets,
And Venetian chills,
The distant aroma of lemon groves
And the smoky towers of Cologne
We love the flesh - its flavor and its color,
And the stifling, mortal scent of flesh
Is it our fault if your skeleton cracks
In our heavy, tender paws?
When pulling back on the reins
Of playful, high-spirited horses,
It is our custom to break their heavy backs
And tame the stubborn slave girls
Come to us! Leave the horrors of war,
And come to our peaceful embrace!
Before it's too late - sheathe your old sword,
Comrades! We shall be brothers!
But if not - we have nothing to lose,
And we are not above treachery!
For ages and ages you will be cursed
By your sickly, belated offspring!
Throughout the woods and thickets
In front of pretty Europe
We will spread out! We'll turn to you
With our Asian muzzles.
Come everyone, come to the Urals!
We're clearing a battlefield there
Between steel machines breathing integrals
And the wild Tatar Horde!
But we are no longer your shield,
Henceforth we'll not do battle!
As mortal battles rages we'll watch
With our narrow eyes!
We will not lift a finger when the cruel Huns
Rummage the pockets of corpses,
Burn cities, drive cattle into churches,
And roast the meat of our white brothers!
Come to your senses for the last time, old world!
Our barbaric lyre is calling you
One final time, to a joyous brotherly feast
To a brotherly feast of labor and of peace!
january 30-th, 1918
You are millions. We are hordes and hordes and hordes.
Try and take us on!
Yes, we are Scythians! Yes, we are Asians -
With slanted and greedy eyes!
For you, the ages, for us a single hour.
We, like obedient slaves,
Held up a shield between two enemy races -
The Tatars and Europe!
For ages and ages your old furnace raged
And drowned out the roar of avalanches,
And Lisbon and Messina's fall
To you was but a monstrous fairy tale!
For hundreds of years you gazed at the East,
Storing up and melting down our jewels,
And, jeering, you merely counted the days
Until your cannons you could point at us!
The time is come. Trouble beats its wings -
And every day our grudges grow,
And the day will come when every trace
Of your Paestums may vanish!
O, old world! While you still survive,
While you still suffer your sweet torture,
Come to a halt, sage as Oedipus,
Before the ancient riddle of the Sphinx!
Russia is a Sphinx. Rejoicing, grieving,
And drenched in black blood,
It gazes, gazes, gazes at you,
With hatred and with love!
It has been ages since you've loved
As our blood still loves!
You have forgotten that there is a love
That can destroy and burn!
We love all - the heat of cold numbers,
The gift of divine visions,
We understand all - sharp Gallic sense
And gloomy Teutonic genius
We remember all - the hell of Parisian streets,
And Venetian chills,
The distant aroma of lemon groves
And the smoky towers of Cologne
We love the flesh - its flavor and its color,
And the stifling, mortal scent of flesh
Is it our fault if your skeleton cracks
In our heavy, tender paws?
When pulling back on the reins
Of playful, high-spirited horses,
It is our custom to break their heavy backs
And tame the stubborn slave girls
Come to us! Leave the horrors of war,
And come to our peaceful embrace!
Before it's too late - sheathe your old sword,
Comrades! We shall be brothers!
But if not - we have nothing to lose,
And we are not above treachery!
For ages and ages you will be cursed
By your sickly, belated offspring!
Throughout the woods and thickets
In front of pretty Europe
We will spread out! We'll turn to you
With our Asian muzzles.
Come everyone, come to the Urals!
We're clearing a battlefield there
Between steel machines breathing integrals
And the wild Tatar Horde!
But we are no longer your shield,
Henceforth we'll not do battle!
As mortal battles rages we'll watch
With our narrow eyes!
We will not lift a finger when the cruel Huns
Rummage the pockets of corpses,
Burn cities, drive cattle into churches,
And roast the meat of our white brothers!
Come to your senses for the last time, old world!
Our barbaric lyre is calling you
One final time, to a joyous brotherly feast
To a brotherly feast of labor and of peace!
january 30-th, 1918
пушкин Я Ватник разная политота
TO THE SLANDERERS OF RUSSIA (А.С. Пушкин Клеветникам россии.)
TO THE SLANDERERS OF RUSSIAWhy rave ye, babblers, so — ye lords of popular wonder ?
Why such anathemas 'gainst Russia do you thunder ?
What moves your idle rage? Is't Poland's fallen pride?
'T is but Slavonic kin among themselves contending,
An ancient household strife, oft judged but still unending,
A question which, be sure, you never can decide.
For ages past still have contended,
These races, though so near allied:
And oft 'neath Victory's storm has bended
Now their, and now our side.
Which shall stand fast in such commotion
The haughty Liakh, or faithful Russ?
And shall Slavonic streams meet in a Russian ocean? -
Or il't dry up? This is point for us.
Leave us!: Your eyes are all unable
To read our history's bloody table;
Strange in your sight and dark must be
Our springs of household enmity!
To you the Kreml and Prága's tower
Are voiceless all,--you mark the fate
And daring of the battle-hour--
And understand us not, but hate.
What stirs ye ?
Is it that this nation,
On Moscow's flaming walls, blood-slaked and ruin-quench'd,
Spurn'd back the insolent dictation
Of Him before whose nod ye blenched?
Is it that into dust we shatter'd,
The Dagon that weigh'd down all earth so wearily,
And our best blood so freely scatter'd,
To buy for Europe peace and liberty?
Ye're bold of tongue — but hark, would ye in deed but try it
Or is the hero, now reclined in laurelled quiet,
Too weak to fix once more, Izmail's red bayonet?
Or hath the Russian Tsar ever, in vain commanded?
Or must we meet all Europe banded?
Have we forgot to conquer yet ?
Or rather,shall they not, from Perm to Tauris' fountains,'
From the hot Colchian steppes, to Finland's icy mountains,
From the grey, half-shatter'd wall,
To fair Kathay, in dotage buried
A steely rampart, close and serried,
Rise, Russia's warriors, one and all?
Then send your numbers without number,
Your madden'd sons, your goaded slaves,
In Russia's plains there's room to slumber,
And well they'll know their brethren's graves !
http://www.armchairgeneral.com/forums/showthread.php?t=67859
Англия джихад Я Ватник разная политота
Премьер-министр Великобритании Дэвид Кэмерон заявил, что количество
британских граждан, уезжающих воевать на стороне «Исламского
государства», просто ужасает.
http://www.pravda.ru/news/world/europe/european/30-08-2014/1223864-anglija-0/
Я Ватник разная политота
От оно чо, михалыч...
Депутат Сейма Литвы от фракции партии Избирательной акции поляков Литвы Збигнев Едински считает, что НАТО должно вмешаться в конфликт на Украине, а чтобы «принудить» украинские власти к миру «должно начать бомбить Киев». Как сообщает корреспондент ИА REGNUM, об этом Едински сегодня, 29 августа, написал на своей страничке в социальной сети Facebook.«Путин является преступником, потому что допустил кровопролитие на юговостоке Украины. Как руководитель соседней станы должен был немедленно ввести миротворческий контингент между воюющими сторонами. Инициативу должно перенять НАТО и начать бомбардировки Киева, чтобы принудить к миру, как это было, когда НАТО бомбило Белград, чтобы Сербия признала независимость Косова», — написал Едински.
Фракция Избирательной акции поляков Литвы с момента последних парламентских выборов находилась в правящей коалиции и правительстве Литвы, однако после внутреннего конфликта с лидером социал-демократов, премьером Альгирдасом Буткявичюсом вышла из правящей коалиции и в настоящее время находится в оппозиции. Председатель партии — депутат Европарламента от Литвы Вальдемар Томашевски. В Литве ИАПЛ обвиняют в связях с Россией.
Збигнев Едински родился в Гродно, Белоруссия. Является заместителем председателя ИАПЛ. До политической карьеры работал на различных руководящих должностях в промышленной отрасли. Политическую карьеру начал на работе в самоуправлениях вначале Вильнюсского района, позже Шальчининкайского района. Избран в Сейм по спискам ИАПЛ.
http://pravdanews.info/deputat-seyma-litvy-nato-dolzhno-nachat-bombardirovki-kieva-chtoby-prinudit-ukrainu-k-miru.html
