Victory Day!!! May 9.

[Игорь Коракс]

Happy Holidays, colleagues!

 

[Детективное агентство ИКС-Инфо.]

Colleagues!!!
All, all, all with Victory Day !!!!!

 

[Частный детектив Краснослободцев Дмитрий Николаеви]

HAPPY VICTORY !!!

 

[Плотников Юрий Михайлович]

All with a holiday VICTORY DAY !!!

 

[частный детектив Хмельницкий]

In Ukraine, in Lviv, the mess was celebrating ..... But how nice it was to see in Khmelnitsky how very young families with small children or just young people carried flowers to the eternal flame, gave flowers to veterans (I’ll pay attention to OUR veterans- with stars) .. and there were a lot of them ...... Not everything is still rotten in Ukraine

 

[Детективное агентство. Украина. Харьков. Львов.]

And in Lviv, everything is through your ass ((

 

[Матушкин Андрей Николаевич]

Happy Great Holiday !!!
Happy Victory Day !!!

 

[Частный детектив. Панда. Краснодар.]

All a happy holiday !!!
HAPPY VICTORY !!!

 

[Дима-Минск]

Elp and Odin forget this day about our misunderstandings, our grandfathers crushed the Nazis together and it pleases that no matter how the West tries to reconsider the story, it doesn’t change it, with PRASDICAM YOU BROTHERS (as Zadornov said, and let us show them: lol

 

[Мишина Татьяна]

Victory Day will forever remain the day of our national triumph, a symbol of the heroic past, the greatness of spirit and brotherhood of nations.


poet NIKOLAY MAYOROV 23 years
(In October 1941, his request for enlistment was granted.
February 8, 1942 Nikolai Mayorov was killed in battle in the Smolensk region)


There is a sound in my voice
metal.
I entered life hard and direct.
Not everyone will die. Not everything will go in
to the directory.
But just let it be under my name
The descendant will distinguish in archival rubbish
A piece of hot land loyal to us
Where did we go with charred
mouths
And courage, like a banner, carried.
We burned bonfires and turned back
rivers.
We lacked the sky and water.
Stubborn life in every person
Iron marks the traces -
So in us sunk past signs.
And how we loved - ask wives!
Centuries will pass and they will lie to you
Portraits
Where our life course is depicted.
We were tall, brown hair.
You will read in books as a myth,
About the people that left, not loving,
Not having finished the last cigarettes.
When not for battle, not eternal pursuit
Steep paths to the last height,
We would be preserved in bronze
sculptures
In newspaper columns, in outline
on canvas.
But time passed. Changed the river bed.
And we lived without wasting words
To come to you only
in paraphrases of oral
Yes, in the gray prose of our diaries.
We took the flame with our bare hands.
The chest was opened to the wind. Out of the bucket
Dragged the water in full sips
And in love with a woman slowly.
And they went forward, and fell, and barely
In coils of rough legs dragging,
We saw women looking
On our crazy trumpeter.
And he blew, the world was in no way
without setting
(The belt slid downhill
shoulder)
He also left a woman at home,
Without looking back even in a rush.
The stone was hard, the ledges
stony
They are surrounded on almost all sides,
Looking up - and the sky was
purely,
Like a light forehead left
wives.
So I write. Let the words be inaccurate
And the syllable is heavy, and the expressions are rude!
The rumor has passed about us
To us, thirst straightened our lips.
The world is like a window for air
open
He passed us, passed
to end,
And it’s good that our hands smell
A sullen song of faithful lead.
And no matter how many years the memory crushed
They will not forget us forever
What, doing the weather to the whole planet,
We dressed the word "Man" in flesh!