Прожект БАМ - 09. Народ не забыл своего Тараса - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Speech at the VI Plenum of the Board of the Union of Soviet Writers of the USSR dedicated to the 125th anniversary of the birth of Taras Grigoryevich Shevchenko, May 4, 1939

V. Lebedev-Kumach, 1939

... not on an empty place

Our culture is our country.

And we, as a banner of truth and honor,

Great in the heart we carry names.

No wonder we cope with any anniversary

Not in vain we celebrate numbers,

For us the anniversary of great people

Full of living tremendous sense.

I'm not afraid of the old words

(Not everything is in the old days only the trash and the "rag") - -

The Soviet Union appreciates lights,

And our Shevchenko is our light!

The people immediately understood their singer,

But many interfered with Taraso flame;

Some trampled him with boots

Others tried to strangle with words.

Many gray bourgeois beards

In academic nickelia,

Serving that Shevchenko, they say, is a nugget,

But he has neither culture nor a genius,

He is, they say, the creator of unreasonable songs,

Which the gray mass loves.

So bourgeois book mold

I tried to humiliate the image of Taras.

Others this great image

Tried to imagine the weeping willow:

Shevchenko, they say, the uncle is very kind,

Very unhappy and tearful.

Not only in articles - and in translations

They did not spare pink colors,

So that in the Russian village, in Russian factories

Tarasov's genuine voice did not struck.

Sometimes and cleaner the little people were:

Easily jumping over the limits of cynicism,

The image of Shevchenko they were painted

In the yellow-clack tones of chauvinism.

Taras to the common people of all nations

Was a affectionate of his mother, the sun is warm, -

And she tried to cling to him

Bastard, shouting: "Beat Muscovites!"

But Shevchenko's voice buzzed with an alarm

I carried a boil and angry lava,

And the image of the poet in the heart of a soldier

He got up, illuminated by love and glory.

And in a worker’s house, on a modest table,

Where Lenin lay and lay Nekrasov,

Often stood in the corner of secluded

A simple and familiar bust of Tarasov.

Taras Grigoryevich, look,

How magnificently your Ukraine blooms!

You see - with the order on the chest

Your Katerina is walking through the fields,

And her son is a wonderful son, -

Funny, smart, beautiful, healthy,

He leads the tractor among the collective farm plains

And Chernobrova sings a song with Mila.

I sometimes see in a fog of times

Seas of mankind, and at the forefront

My homeland goes in splendor banner,

My Stalin is going on, my party is going on!

All geniuses of knowledge, art and words,

Who lived and was ill with the fate of the Earth,

Who passionately loved the earthly man -

Everyone, everyone came under our banner!

And where Shakespeare with Rustaveli is nearby,

Where Pushkin and Gorky are in the forefront,

Shevchenko goes, and joy shines

In blue big and deep eyes.

And the new sun rises majestically,

Bringing a new life to humanity,

The sun is freedom, the sun of glory,

Whose name is communism!