#russia
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
Chorus]
I can’t go on without my notes!
I can’t go on without the words!
I can’t go on without my notes!
I can’t go on without the words!
[Verse 1]
My princess tells me, late at night,
Some boys are good, some still can be.
With some, the world turns bright and strange,
And flowers fall like rain on me.
In Russia, many open hearts,
With simple truth, no hidden knife.
But fool the French is harder, harder
It's hard for bit...es them to stupefy
[Verse 2]
The Dutch will lure you: crackling smoke.
Italians attract with honey talks.
The Arabs shine in clean silhouette.
Indians are famous for their girlfriends' pose
[Chorus]
I can’t go on without my notes!
I can’t go on without the words!
I can’t take fake, I can’t, I can’t!
Don’t make me play the fool again!
[Verse 3]
It seems the world is not a song like,
It’s someone else’s pain re-sung one.
To find the one who keeps you hooked,
Comes easiest if you are a punk.
Though many worthy walk in Russia,
Though Frenchmen wear a lion pride,
My princess gave one gift to me now,
She said: just keep your words alive!
[Verse 4]
Today the world moves on, dead set,
Toward where no living breath is left.
Today they herd us, sheep in lines,
Through Plato’s gorge, into the drift!
[Chorus]
I can’t go on without my notes!
I can’t go on without the words!
© Copyright: Оле-Да-Оле, 2026
The song has already been recorded in my friend's tiny recording studio. There should be a release in two versions (in two languages) on Soundcloud on 12-13/04/2026
https://soundcloud.com/ole-ole-698765421
The original text ( https://stihi.ru/2026/01/11/28)
Я не могу!
Я не могу, без нот я не могу!
Я не могу, без слов я не могу!
Я не могу, без нот я не могу!
Я не могу, без слов я не могу!
Слышу рассказ моей принцессы,
Что парни бывают хороши
Что мальчики есть, с кем мир чудесен,
Где дарят кипами цветы
Что среди русских больше славных,
Много открытых простецов
А, вот, французов одурманить
И стервам сложно - ждёт облом!
Манят голландцы дымом крэка,
А итальянцы - мёдом уст
Арабы славны силуэтом,
Индусы - позами подруг!
Я не могу, без нот я не могу!
Я не могу, без слов я не могу!
Я не могу, слышать фальшь я не могу!
Я не могу, быть снова лохом не могу!
Похоже, мир совсем не песня,
А парафраз чужих обид
Найти того, с кем интересно
Попроще тем, кто сам дебил
Пусть среди русских много славных,
А у французов - гонор львов
Моя принцесса мне в подарок
Сказала: - Просто хорошо!
Сегодня мир идёт упрямо
Туда, где нет уже живых
Сегодня всех ведут баранов
Платоновым ущельем в выр!
Я не могу, без нот я не могу!
Я не могу, без слов я не могу!
© Copyright: Оле-Да-Оле, 2026
Apr 10
Apr 10, 2026 at 4:56 PM UTC
Where have all the assassins gone,
I'm just asking,
Where have all the hit-men gone,
It wasn't long ago.
Where have all the psychos gone,
Ones like Sirhan Sirhan,
Or a crazy American,
Better still, a red Russian.
Where have all the agencies gone,
I'm just asking,
The MI5, the CIA,
KGB, Mossad;
Where have covert actions gone,
When there's guys like loonie Kim Jong;
A psychopathic American,
A poser with no where to run.
Where have all our heroes gone,
I'm just asking;
Where have all our leaders gone,
Not so long ago.
Where have all our Patriotics gone,
We haven't seen them in so long;
When will we ever learn,
Narcissistic liars can't govern.
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 11:08 AM UTC
My big brother wants to be the biggest
He quickly feels wronged
I would owe him
When I disagree with him
I get reproaches as if I'm betraying him
and conspiring with our sisters
As it suits him
he calls me
a little man (fascist)
a sneaky (secret agent)
a mama's boy (communist)
or a selfish (capitalist)
as if I'm taking something from him
and have no right
to exist
outside of hell
or of the colonialism
of his state within the state
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 2:25 AM UTC
Of course, we don't want war
In any case not
in our own country
So soldiers are needed
and they need to practise
to avoid boredom
So we provoke
something across the border
We let them come
while we have already left
Or, if they're stupid
we teach them a lesson
In an ambush
In any case, we teach them
to remain afraid
Dec 9, 2025
Dec 9, 2025 at 2:37 AM UTC
i must complete
this morning's traditions,
smoothly as best i can,
transition the dead bolt turning.
there is the feast to
prepare,
eulogies to compose
to heroes frozen to the floors
of transit points,
vast blue-iced miles
alter nothing
no amount of looking can change
the distant truth
that these wrinkled traditions
possess us
like great white birds flying
to siberia,
i am old here without
your tongue
it is foreign,
as foreign as yours and mine.
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 8:12 AM UTC
Music softly whispers through the air
And little children are dancing everywhere
Notes of joy and deep despair
Rhythms dance beneath the moonlight
Hearts unite in sweet commune tonight
The new Intervision has begun
It's called Intervision in beautiful Moscow
Where fairness flys and
Melodies like stars that gleam
Woven tightly stitch Moscow a dream
In every strum and every beat
Life finds solace pure and sweet.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 3:23 AM UTC
on the far side
of a field protected
in the space between the hedges
and the hardwoods of mourning
anna lies forever
watching the ocean.
a place salted by tears for her,
and laid out through seasons
begging not for change, anna rests,
as autumn sleeping,
always dreaming, beholding.
and above in endless passing
long angled lines,
flying to warmer climes
by the ten thousands,
great birds on the wing flee
the frozen winds coming,
and the seasons turn for them,
and one hundred thousand more fly,
and the country become as silent
as her trembling kiss
transparent in the blue moon lighted earth,
beneath a gleaming white crucifix,
where i will plan my days
to spend with her,
the flesh that is her words.
the words that were her blood.
again and often,
sometimes to burn them as fuel
to warm myself,
and others to rest beside them
as she rest now.
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 4:09 AM UTC
A handful of soldiers
lay frozen in the snow,
no longer available
for the winter slaughter,
unable to hear
the orders given.
One lay face down
as if he slept,
another lay on his back
eyes opened
as if he watched
the fall of snow
which drifted down
upon his face,
like some lost pilgrim
awaiting grace.
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 4:20 AM UTC
When is enough enough,
When is the going just too tough.
Why do people have to die
Forever in the ground to lie.
Are the spoils worth all the pain
When the path is **** and maim.
Is barren land worth just so much
Now deprived of human touch.
Do fatherless children justify the cost
Memories of a generation lost.
Weeping mothers by the score
Adding every day far more.
Politicians acting blind
To the misery resigned,
Just numbers on a sheet
Conscious only of defeat.
Pride and hubris win the day
Reason not allowed to sway.
Yet solutions need be found
Striving to be clear and sound.
Calmer voices must assist
For further slaughter to desist.
The way forward won't be fast
Searching for a peace to last.
Neither side will win outright
Time for discourse not brute might.
Russia needs restore prosperity
Ukrainians live without temerity.
Feb 18, 2025
Feb 18, 2025 at 9:30 AM UTC
Cold days are nothing,
Compared to the days of,
Full night in Russia.
Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 12:28 PM UTC
A rifle in hand
now goin to war
fighting the sickle, the hammer
and more
While all the while
sick to the core
fighting the sickle, the hammer
some more
Bite back on the bile
and even the score
against the sickle, the hammer
and oh so much more
Family and friends
all the blood, and the gore
against hammer and sickle
the oaths, that we swore
Take out the bear
and wipe blood from the floors
the voice of the victor
a loud lion's roar
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
Gutless guillotines
mounds a mass of razor blades
rise of the treaty
Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 4:19 PM UTC
Since justice has given way
to terrorism.
Since justice has become
synonymous with kidnapping.
Know that hunger
is a catastrophe.
Hunger is war.
It is either ****
or be killed.
I swear both to God and to you.
I can go for twenty-four hours without eating.
Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 6:58 AM UTC
Spent half my life immersed
In starlight...
Outside the windows
Of my room....
Was raised to think
Everything was alright...
But I found out the truth
Much too soon!
Oh, howl, howl,
Howl at the moon!
Oh, watch the midnight
Blue, and feel the
Lights surrounding you!
And never wonder if
You'll ever be afraid!
Oh, howl, howl,
Howl at the moon!
We find out our truths much too soon...
Oh, bring me a bottle ,
To bury my worries!
Oh, load me a pipe,
And I'll tell you a story.
A story, a story,
A terrible story,
My life for a story,
Of honor and glory.
Oh, howl, howl, howl,
At the moon!
Either drunk or
Hungover, or waking
Up Blue,
We'll fight till it's over,
Till battle is through;
Till we're beaten and Bloodied,
And covered in mud,
And we march home while
Weary, and spotted with
Blood.
Oh, howl, howl, howl,
At the moon!
Jul 20, 2024
Jul 20, 2024 at 12:28 PM UTC
windowless day,
particles of strange salt on his brow,
generator man
on the coil,
double-sided,
a love for radioactive honey:
a storm in a teacup...
but for some reason
could not reciprocate
due to the metallic taste in his mouth,
and so he seemed driven
to build his electrical dream,
and took comfort from his pigeons,
the “lightning machine,”
the hair on his head bristled
as he discovered his purpose
in rings of glory that died
as flags of dust...
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 9:15 AM UTC
Outraged by indifference,
On the streets, neighbors once friendly Now stand in opposing lines. Propaganda posters cover the walls, Spreading fear and dividing minds. Ukraine or Russia, Isreal or Palestine. Capitalism or communism the greediness and division funding all wars
In countries once united and with the hope of, now torn apart. Hopes and dreams dashed, shattered like glass. The future once bright, now a dark unknown. How can we navigate our way into a peaceful world
Blue and yellow flags, now stained with blood. A nation once united, now torn asunder. The echoes of shelling, ringing in their ears. The land of golden wheat, now a barren wasteland.
So the streets are filled with chaos and fear, And the violence rages on without cease. Bombs and bullets tear through the night, and civilians cower in their homes, bereft of peace. The loss of life and suffering is great, And the scars of war run deep and true. The conflict rages on without end, And hope seems hard to hold onto.
A home, once a dream of safety. Now a battlefield, a place of terror. The faces of loved ones, now distant memories. hearts, once full of hope. Now shattered and broken.
Amidst the chaos and despair, we search for a light. The occurring wars, the reasons to unite, for a glimmer of hope is a reason to go on. So they cling onto the small moments of joy, like the laughter of a child, or a flower in bloom. In the darkest of times, they try to find strength in the small things.
Though the scars of war may run deep, the world can still heal. We can still choose love, choose forgiveness. We can choose to build a better tomorrow, Where peace reigns and hope abounds. May we never forget the lessons of war, and may we always strive for a brighter future.
May we learn to forgive those who have wronged us, and work to heal the divisions in our society. May we reach out to those in need, and work to create a more just and equitable world. May we never lose sight of the beauty of life, as we hold fast to the belief that a better tomorrow is for us
Oct 21, 2023
Oct 21, 2023 at 5:20 AM UTC
Mother pricked her index on a holly bush.
A trickle of blood succumbed to the crater, crossing the lines of her palm.
She sanctioned a frown.
On her hand now lay a staining scarlet winter berry.
Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 7:02 PM UTC
What did I do,
Quite the disaster, but if only they knew
The depth of the hole I find myself in,
Thank goodness ambition is no mortal sin.
I seriously thought this thing would be fast,
A simple invasion, a side show, a blast,
Over by dinner then pop the Champagne,
Ukraine by name only, Russia’s domain.
Never the thought came into my head
That a little B actor would play me instead,
Tenacious and cunning he's proven to be
But if chess is the game, good luck playing me.
The West struts its stuff, more noise than effect,
A mish mash of junk all easily wrecked,
Perhaps they forget the Russian resolve,
Stay tuned for a while and watch it evolve.
Ukraine is no match for what we can do,
Time our best friend and that's always been true,
We're patient and hardy, impervious to pain,
We'll suffer and bleed for what's ours to gain.
Don't read me wrong I want this to end,
I'm just very careful which message I send,
At the end of the day I'll make a tough deal,
And a big swath of land I'll invariably steal.
Ukraine won't be happy, the West will cry foul,
But don't be impressed, it's merely a howl,
A little play acting for show and effect,
As for this to continue they clearly all dread.
Ignore the odd glitches it's the outcome that counts,
This hasn't been pretty, a truth with few doubts,
But often what shines is merely fool’s gold,
Land is the key and Ukraine’s I will hold.
Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 3:47 PM UTC
Our beautiful life, preserved
against the cold that may return:
cans with beans, old newspapers
worn out clothes, jars of jam
up to the ceiling
the hard land, and the hard way
of the great leaders, and the little ones
who fought for their own advantage
the heroes of steel, later torn
from their home and from the books
But we are still there, in our musty house
we still share - a beautiful life
Jul 3, 2023
Jul 3, 2023 at 3:28 AM UTC
At home on the couch
I crumple the edges
of the puke bag
The old times, the old songs
the excuses for the postponement
of the promised future
are back, back
from not having been away
We're still at home
in Old Man State, our
freedom was a dream
There are no more musicians
and no more beautiful
girls from Ukraine
The iron cold is back, back
from not having been away
Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 2:43 AM UTC
Coloured Putin
Shoot her full of rainbows
Scythes from heaven
Souls down in Hell
Hundred thousand dead
Mamushka I miss you
Our Leader sent us there
Not an Odessa holiday
Opposite of that mama
Forgive them all
It's Putin's orders
Hundred thou casualties
Bullet ridden rainbows
Her essence is black
Dec 24, 2022
Dec 24, 2022 at 10:55 PM UTC
More Meet
Eat the meet and feel well
Get a bad gut do the trots
To the toilet ***** it all up
You ate rancid meat
Or was it poisoned
On purpose as you’re here
An invading army doing bad
Nothing good comes from it
Except dead Russian soldiers
Who ate off meat in rusty tins
Found in a bombed out house
Call it karma for the war
You go there you risk
Not just bullets and shells
Maybe you were poisoned
On purpose or it was an accident
The result is the same
Ill Russian soldiers who puke
Some will die painful deaths
Give those well more meat…
Aug 27, 2022
Aug 27, 2022 at 5:36 PM UTC