#1945
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!
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 4:11 AM UTC
~
*Shoreline sorrow
In the light of grey
Deep water, snowy day
As you tuck your children
Safely in bed, remember
Lake Chelan has a reputation of
Never yielding its dead*
~
May 21, 2024
May 21, 2024 at 1:40 PM UTC
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
It all occurred with Germany
Japan was there, the world was scared
To storm the beach of Normandy
Power struggle with no regrets
Imperialist japan with minor fits
Lashing out to focus on three
“America, China, and the Soviet please”
This led to begin in a new world war
With 2K killed at pearl harbor
The holocaust powered even more
To be ****** to death, until ‘44
June 9th, and yards to go
200 stretched from land to coast
10,000 men that made the march
Across the beach, into the marsh
A revenge that tastes so bitter and sweet
For the surprise attack, on the pearl harbor fleet
The event that took our country to war
It paid with bloodshed, 10,000 hearts torn
And when D-day ceased, and the smoke parted clear
We dropped upon 2 cities
Our own 2 tears
That revenged the fallen
And vanquished the feared
The axis fleet, now defeated and gone
They dispersed their union
For ****** was wrong
And what of Japan?
Well they restored their towns
From their cities destructed…
A full 2 miles around
And to this very day
We weep for the wept
That adopted our tears
And ended up dead
296 billion in debts
At least in today’s dollars and cents
For a country whose heart
Was torn to bits
60 million…
If that’s what it takes…
To conquer the axis…
Their lives, they gave…
...And the war, they won…
...And won from their grave…
And on opposing sides?
To win or to die
Japan, Germany, and Italy reside
With 16 million casualties
They pounded on Poland
The sacked the Soviet
They fought the French
And got all the way to Greece even
They never left the Netherlands
They were the bane of Belgium
They never gave up Norway
Or the liquidation of Luxemburg’s location
They caused a sort of havoc
Everywhere they went
They threatened the world
With everything they sent
They tried to take the Jewish and the handicapped
To hell
And ended up bringing on themselves
A hellish, brutish, world
This is the story of a world at war
From ‘39 to ‘45
The second world storm
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC