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|Far East--A Song:gyrfalcons, scorn, bullets, east, China, blood, scaffold, steppes
Brothers, they are driving us far
From our native land -
To the steppes of the Far East,
Yes, oh, will we return from the war?
Is there too little land in Russia?
That we have to go to China for it?
If the nobility has taken everything,
Then what do the Japanese have to do with it?
Hunger awaits us, cold awaits us,
Enemy bullets and buckshot.
The hateful command
Has gone mad from too soft a life, and we -
Must answer for their boasting,
Put your heads under the bullets.
It is not the grass swaying in the steppes,
It is not the wind rustling in the grove -
A cry brave and powerful is heard,
Ordering us into battle with the foe.
It is not gyrfalcons flying down,
Sensing the nearness of corpses -
The working people are taking up arms
To revenge their grandfathers and fathers.
Suffering does not frighten the fighters,
Nor prison, nor the scaffold,
Full of courage, scorn,
Boldly they move forward.
So rise up, powerful force,
Against slavery and chains!
Mete our justice and terrible reprisal:
Tooth for tooth and blood for blood.