42 lines
1.2 KiB
Plaintext
42 lines
1.2 KiB
Plaintext
remember people
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On the ground, the long-suffering Belarus
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Our scout in hand vorogov caught.
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He was captured when a narrow footpath
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In the guerrilla zones waded.
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There was a dark-skinned, dark-eyed, black-browed,
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He walked away from Georgia in a harsh campaign.
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"You're a spy, recognized in the last hour!"
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He answered. "I am from the village adjoining"
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The village, the snow orphaned
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Led his noisy crowd.
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"If you're lying - you can not escape the shooting,
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If it is true then let go, to hell with you.
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No way, the lieutenant was you before,
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And now hiding in peasant clothes! "
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He replied: "There's a second hut on the edge,
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My sister lives there own. "
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Heavy him farewell road
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The guards already comes from anger.
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Woman looks perplexed at the door:
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A stranger to it are dashing away.
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"Do you, who is this black-eyed to know?"
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What to say, since not seen even once?
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He pushed the foreign soldier:
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"You do not touch my brother!"
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And suddenly he clung to his cheek barbed
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From suffering and death overshadowed.
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Polesie people remember this event,
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The hard times at 41 m it was.
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Nothing about them I do not know more
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But brothers and sisters have combined a song.
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Maybe in Georgia that song he hears
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And the letter she writes to Belarus. |