Five years have passed - and heal the wounds - Akhmatova

Five years have passed - and heal the wounds,
Cruel inflicted by the war,
my country, Russian, and clearings
Again, full of icy silence.

And a beacon through the darkness of the night seaside,
Way ukazuya sailor, burn.
Their fire, both in the friendly eyes,
Far from the sea sailors look.

Where he thundered tank - there is now a peace tractor
Where howling fire - fragrant garden,
And once pitted path
lighter cars fly.

Where is the oil of the crippled hand
Cried out for vengeance - is green fir,
And there, where the heart ache of separation, —
There's a mother sings, rocking cradle.

You have become a powerful and free again,
My country! But alive forever
In the treasury of the nation's memory
War incinerated year.

For a peaceful life of young generations,
From the Caspian Sea and to the polar ice caps,
As monuments burned villages,
Stand up masses of new cities.

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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