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Anatol Astreika
Anatol Astreika на
Ведах беларускіх

Translated by


Yes, be it blessed a hundred times — The happy hour of wished arrival, When a brave lad from Soviet lines Comes to the land of my own people. And blessed be his bold advance — Immortal songs shall sing his praises — All, glad, will take him in their arms, In old Polotsk and green Polesye. And blessed be the fray’s first sound, The distant roar of steel chase rising. The prisoner suddenly hears: though bound, He glances east with screwed-up eyes then… And blessed be the partisan

Who’s first to blast with mine and cartridge The battered enemy on the run, And vengeance takes, to our advantage. Praised be the people’s guide and friend: Through sleepless nights, with keen-eyed vision, To our dear land of tears unstemmed He sends the liberating mission.

The foe burned crops and homes by the score. Shall we take insults unrewarded?

Thrice blessed be those who fell in war, Who native soil from foes have guarded.

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Collections: Belarusan Lyric poetry