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#1941
The song was written on August 15 and 17, 2025. The song is dedicated to the memory of my parents, Donetsk and Rodinskoye, where I was born and grew up, and the entire Donbas. On the eve of Victory Day in the Great Patriotic War of the peoples of the USSR, 1941-1945. ****** I was born and raised in Stalin town, And no one said: my country would forget. The trains roared past, the engines screaming down, Hauling black gold in wagons without end. Life flowed simple then: we worked, we ate, With books and friends, and shortwave through the night. And war-wounds kept repeating, steady, straight: Life is hard, not only for holidays bright! It’s hard to trust there was a Stalin town, A miner praised the Leader with a sigh. Those days are gone; “progress” came rolling down, And then the country vanished, “we repent and cry". Quietly, in office hush, it played: Power, money went to the skilled and mean. “Power is from God,” the newborn demon said, Yet Donbas wouldn’t crown Bandera “supreme”! I was born and raised in Stalin town, And no one said: my country would forget. I was born back then in Stalin town, And now they won’t recall it even yet. ● Don-don-don, don-duona-don! Don-don-don, don-duona-don! ● Don-don-don, don-duona-don! Don-don-don, don-duona-don! ***** Russian original poem: Я родился в городе Сталина Я родился и вырос в городе Сталина Да никто не сказал мне - забыла о том страна Громыхали составы под свист паровозных гудков, Что тягали вагонами чёрное золото в нём Жизнь текла тогда просто – люди жили трудом Были книги, друзья, пело Ка-Вэ радио Да и раны войны говорили нам вновь и вновь: - Жизнь трудна, и не только для праздников! Теперь трудно поверить, что был город Сталина И шахтёр о вожде говорил с придыханием Те прошли времена и накрыл всех «прогресса» дурман, И исчезла страна, вслед за покаянием Исподволь, как бывает, - в кабинетной тиши Власть и деньги достались умелым подонкам страны - Власть – от бога, - внушал вновь новорожденный бес Да Донбасс не поверил, что Бандеры икона – «the best»! Я родился и вырос в городе Сталина Да никто не сказал мне, - забыла о том страна Я родился когда-то в городе Сталина Да уже и не помнят, что была его страна… Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон!
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May 8
May 8, 2026 at 4:11 AM UTC
I was born in the city of Stalin
The song was written on August 15 and 17, 2025. The song is dedicated to the memory of my parents, Donetsk and Rodinskoye, where I was born and grew up, and the entire Donbas. On the eve of Victory Day in the Great Patriotic War of the peoples of the USSR, 1941-1945. ****** I was born and raised in Stalin town, And no one said: my country would forget. The trains roared past, the engines screaming down, Hauling black gold in wagons without end. Life flowed simple then: we worked, we ate, With books and friends, and shortwave through the night. And war-wounds kept repeating, steady, straight: Life is hard, not only for holidays bright! It’s hard to trust there was a Stalin town, A miner praised the Leader with a sigh. Those days are gone; “progress” came rolling down, And then the country vanished, “we repent and cry". Quietly, in office hush, it played: Power, money went to the skilled and mean. “Power is from God,” the newborn demon said, Yet Donbas wouldn’t crown Bandera “supreme”! I was born and raised in Stalin town, And no one said: my country would forget. I was born back then in Stalin town, And now they won’t recall it even yet. ● Don-don-don, don-duona-don! Don-don-don, don-duona-don! ● Don-don-don, don-duona-don! Don-don-don, don-duona-don! ***** Russian original poem: Я родился в городе Сталина Я родился и вырос в городе Сталина Да никто не сказал мне - забыла о том страна Громыхали составы под свист паровозных гудков, Что тягали вагонами чёрное золото в нём Жизнь текла тогда просто – люди жили трудом Были книги, друзья, пело Ка-Вэ радио Да и раны войны говорили нам вновь и вновь: - Жизнь трудна, и не только для праздников! Теперь трудно поверить, что был город Сталина И шахтёр о вожде говорил с придыханием Те прошли времена и накрыл всех «прогресса» дурман, И исчезла страна, вслед за покаянием Исподволь, как бывает, - в кабинетной тиши Власть и деньги достались умелым подонкам страны - Власть – от бога, - внушал вновь новорожденный бес Да Донбасс не поверил, что Бандеры икона – «the best»! Я родился и вырос в городе Сталина Да никто не сказал мне, - забыла о том страна Я родился когда-то в городе Сталина Да уже и не помнят, что была его страна… Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон! Дон-дона-дон, дон-доона-дон!
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51
The artificial legs seem like appendages, and I feel both sickened, and yet pleased at last to be able to get about again without being in the wheelchair. They are attached and then I am balanced, a nurse either side. I imagined it would be easier, but it is strange, like being attached to objects which move if I lift and move I leg stumps. I walk forward slowly, the nurses at my side, encouraging me on, knowing I am blind. This is it; this is how it will always be now if I want to walk. It is learning to walk again, as I learnt as a little girl, with the falls and missteps which came then. I walk onward, one step at a time, learning to throw the leg stump, balancing as I go. Philip will be pleased when he comes, seeing me walk, seeing me eye to eye, not looking down at the wheelchair. After a while the nurses suggest I rest; I want to keep on, but I sit, not an easy task, and try to accept the legs will be there now; no longer promises, but attached, new limbs; how it always will be, my old legs, damaged beyond repair, no longer there.
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Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
Grace and Her New Legs 1941.
After the wedding and small reception Philip carries Grace over the threshold of their new home. Iris the maid comes behind them ready to help set Grace on to her legs again. He sets Grace down carefully with Iris's help. Grace stands on her artificial legs balancing herself. They walk into the lounge, Philip guiding her along as her blind eyes stare into the room. Wish I could see the room. Wish I could see Philip and Iris. Philip takes Grace to the settee and she sits down slowly. A home again. Hope this one doesn't get bombed. Well Grace you are home again, Philip says. Yes, its good to be out of hospital and in a new home, she says. He takes her hand. Want you to know this is your new home forever, he says. New home. I'll never see it or him. Where's Iris? She says. She's putting your clothes away in our bedroom, he says. Bedroom. Bed. And he will want to make love to me tonight. How will he be when he sees me naked and legless? He's seen my stumps, but never naked and half a woman. She grabs his hand tight. You have never seen me naked, what will you think when you see me without clothes and legless? Will you really want to make love to me? He leans in close to her. Of course I will, I love you, Grace, he says softly. But I am only half a woman, a blind one too. She cries. He hugs her closer to him. She can sense him near. You are a complete woman to me, he says. Iris comes running into the room. What's up? She says, going across to them. Grace is worried about tonight, he says. Iris kneels down beside Grace and whispers: you have your husband who loves you madly and me to care for you in all things I can. Grace cries as she has not done for sometime. In her mind's eye she thinks of Clive who died at Dunkirk the year before and who made love to her before the bombing and his death. She senses Philip kiss her cheek. And Iris's hand touching her thigh. Now she wants to live, last year she wanted to die.
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
AFTER GRACE'S WEDDING 1941.
After the wedding and small reception Philip carries Grace over the threshold of their new home. Iris the maid comes behind them ready to help set Grace on to her legs again. He sets Grace down carefully with Iris's help. Grace stands on her artificial legs balancing herself. They walk into the lounge, Philip guiding her along as her blind eyes stare into the room. Wish I could see the room. Wish I could see Philip and Iris. Philip takes Grace to the settee and she sits down slowly. A home again. Hope this one doesn't get bombed. Well Grace you are home again, Philip says. Yes, its good to be out of hospital and in a new home, she says. He takes her hand. Want you to know this is your new home forever, he says. New home. I'll never see it or him. Where's Iris? She says. She's putting your clothes away in our bedroom, he says. Bedroom. Bed. And he will want to make love to me tonight. How will he be when he sees me naked and legless? He's seen my stumps, but never naked and half a woman. She grabs his hand tight. You have never seen me naked, what will you think when you see me without clothes and legless? Will you really want to make love to me? He leans in close to her. Of course I will, I love you, Grace, he says softly. But I am only half a woman, a blind one too. She cries. He hugs her closer to him. She can sense him near. You are a complete woman to me, he says. Iris comes running into the room. What's up? She says, going across to them. Grace is worried about tonight, he says. Iris kneels down beside Grace and whispers: you have your husband who loves you madly and me to care for you in all things I can. Grace cries as she has not done for sometime. In her mind's eye she thinks of Clive who died at Dunkirk the year before and who made love to her before the bombing and his death. She senses Philip kiss her cheek. And Iris's hand touching her thigh. Now she wants to live, last year she wanted to die.
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43
I walked on my new legs up the aisle, Guy beside me to give me away. Joan and Iris behind holding the dress. Philip was at the top of the church waiting for me. It seemed strange walking the aisle, unable to see the flowers with my blind eyes, but smelling them as I walked. Guy stood me next to Philip; I sensed him beside me. The priest began speaking and I listened to his every word. I couldn't believe I was getting married. I could hear others in the church in the pews shuffling or whispering. Last year I never thought life would be worth living again after losing my sight and legs in the bombing raid. I had wished I could have died, but now I have legs again, and Philip, and a new maid Iris. I stood there staring forward as if I could see everything. We exchanged vows and we kissed. We were husband and wife and I have new legs and a new life.
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 4:05 AM UTC
GRACE'S NEW LIFE 1941.
A lot has happened in the last two months: I have two news legs a new maid (thanks to Guy and Joan) and a new cheque book. Philip took me shopping with the new maid(Iris) and Iris helped me choose the clothes (with coupons) as I cannot see (but I trust her judgement). I have left the hospital and am living in a small place (with Iris) in Chelsea. Philip comes most days and we have dinner (a simple affair) and either he sits and reads to me I haven't learnt Braille yet) or we sit and listen to music. Once he has gone (I dread him going) Iris helps me undress and I go to bed. Iris has a room next to mine so she can hear me if I fall from bed or need her during the night (call of nature). Clive still haunts me his death was a cruel blow but Philip has proposed and we will marry in June (all being well and ****** has not invaded). I lay here on the bed staring into darkness listening to the birds singing from the garden. Iris is running me a bath it won't be easy but Iris said we can manage it and I expect we will. I miss Clive and my legs and sight still.
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Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 1:48 AM UTC
GRACE'S NEW HORIZONS 1941