How the Republic comes up

Автор перевода пожелал остаться  неизвестным. Перевод осуществлен при участии Irene Zugasti Hervás

How the Republic comes up

How the Republic comes up:
Blood is mixed with soil,
The fights are going on near the Mariupol*
And near Nijnaya Olkhovaya**.

Novorossia is arising,
Coming out from the thunder storm,
Hanging over us, like a space, full of stars,
Of our realities and our dreams.

If i die — I’ll spring up as spikes,
Of the warm, golden breads***,
Pray for me to the Lord****,
Because I’m fighting for love

To my Motherland, small, or big,*****
Try to clear it out now.
But our fathers were buried here,
As long as our kids here were born.

And to give my life and my youth
For the Motherland, I am ready.
Is it Rus’******, or Novorossia,
I don’t care — It’s my home.

How the Republic comes up:
Blood is mixed with soil,
The fights are going on near the Mariupol*
And near Nijnaya Olkhovaya**

* Mariupol — a city in the area of Donbas, which were under the war activity. Mariupol had around 460 000 citizens (2013 year).

** Nijnaya Olkhovaya — small village, which suffered a lot in case of military actions. Before had around 800 citizens.

*** Spikes of breads — it Russian language is a symbolic name of all spikes, like rye and wheat, which are mostly used to produce typical bred in Russia.

**** Lord — means God.

***** Small or big motherland — in Russian language «Small motherland» means the area of your roots, and the»Big motherland» — is an actual country where you was born. Sometimes it doesn’t depend on geography or politics. For example Israel is called «Small motherland» for jewish people, independent of where do they live. Some people of Donbas call Russia or Rus’ as a «Big Motherland», and Donbas — as a «small» one.
******Rus’ — name of an ancient Russia, which included areas of Donbas.

Так рождается республика
30.03.2015

Так рождается республика:
Кровь мешается с землей,
Идут бои под Мариуполем,
И под Нижней Ольховой,

Вырастает Новороссия,
Выходя из бурь и гроз,
Нависает звездным космосом
Наших былей, наших грез.

Коль умру – взойду колосьями
Теплых золотых хлебов,
Обо мне молись ты Господу,
Я воюю за любовь

К малой ли, большой ли Родине,
Ты поди-ка разберись,
Здесь и предки похоронены,
И детишки родились,

И отдать и жизнь, и молодость
Я за Родину готов,
Русь ли это, Новороссия –
Все равно, но здесь мой дом.

Так рождается республика:
Кровь мешается с землей,
Идут бои под Мариуполем
И под Нижней Ольховой.

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