Bebras - Новый Год 53
Translation:
I don't know who carries the weight of the world,
Whether it be Atlas or elephants atop a tortoise.
Yet, we erect a new one upon bones and skulls.
We've got no idea what we want.
Upon a sandy shore, indifferent to time on scales,
We build castles from the ashes of our brothers.
Brothers, who are drawn to look like enemies,
Painted in watercolour of grief and blood.
Some frown, clench their butt cheeks,
'Don't stick your nose into politics', they say,
But we, just like Reeves and Bullock, ride a bus
Towards an abyss.
Everyone's waiting for the final destination,
Sinking teeth into each other's throats,
Veiled beneath patriotism,
Absorbing lies, anticipating rewards,
Promised by television and Telegram channels,
But our own kind would never lie, would they?
Doesn't matter, East or West,
For many, the scent of gunpowder is just a headline in a newspaper,
Over breakfast with a cuppa coffee.
Difficult to experience fear looking at pictures,
That's been taken yesterday, the ones you'll forget tomorrow.
Stop lying and blinking,
Everyone's a hero on a couch and not in the trenches,
Where everything's blowing up, ears ringing, everyone's screaming,
Surrounded with soot.
Easy to express an opinion when it's based on
VHS movies and shooter games.
Don't even need to be a pacifist.
All you need to do is listen to people who speak less than ministers.
Or journalists, who barely print any truth.
Or the White House and Kremlin,
Whose currency are barrels and canisters of fuel.
Exchanging it for souls, with no change,
Millions for billions - great fncking value,
Amazing exchange rate. No remorse,
When fathers and sons are just numbers and corpses.
Weighty stuff? Aye, don't cover your ears,
Truth extinguishes hotheads like CO2.
Time's flowing like water, but dries out memories.
Previous mistakes get forgotten beneath layers
Of 'we are the right ones, we are the best'.
Don't even need a foreteller,
Devil's ready to dance tango on rakes laid out on the floor.
Bones are cracking under the shoes - millstones of tank's tracks.
All this already happened before.
A salad of ambitions, ideologies and banks.
Dogs howl, caravan rolls on.
Onlookers push each other off a parapet,
Doesn't matter, women, kids,
Nobody will notice the ones falling down to their demise,
As long as there's
Honey and beer in a buffett.
Enjoy your meal!
All sins are forgotten.
'We can repeat' - where's the tutor?
Elites will read the epithet out loud,
They'll play the old song on a flute and we'll dance to it.
Bring out a lectern.
Everyone else is a dipshit, only we are musketeers.
Peeling skin off people, we look for flaws among the guts.
Why bother understanding one another,
We know the truth,
We can clearly see others' bell towers from our own ditch.
Knee-deep in shit, slamming the doors behind us,
We are marching towards a mushroom on the horizon.
Geiger nutcracker for Christmas, iodine pills instead of salads...
Will we even see the dawn of the next year...?