Igor Kobzev - a fragment of the poem "The Fall of Perun"
Igor Kobzev - a fragment of the poem "The Fall of Perun"

Video: Igor Kobzev - a fragment of the poem "The Fall of Perun"

Video: Igor Kobzev - a fragment of the poem
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Igor Kobzev is a wonderful Russian poet, we sincerely hope that this short video fragment from the poem "The Fall of Perun", dedicated to the baptism of Rus, will encourage viewers to get acquainted with the work of this wonderful Rus.

Igor Kobzev's website:

Here, putting an end to the wrong song, Suddenly Vladimir hit the table:

- Al you did not hear our words, singer?

Al decided to persist on his own?

Your Dazhbog is not a god. And not God - Perun.

The Russian people invented them like a fairy tale.

And so that henceforth neither in the word nor in the ringing of strings

We cannot hear about these idols!

We command to honor another gentleman.

Stop praying to the devil to the black!

We will burn all the peruns today with fire, How damn evil!

The princes have long been cool in Russia, But the singers are even more self-willed.

No bridle can be tamed

Their zealous word is free.

Rek Boyan: - Go around the whole of Russia, Look at the whole firmament to the bottom:

Perun is alive everywhere - that heavenly thunder, Dazhbog is alive everywhere - the red sun!

In vain you, prince, chasing someone else's mind, I decided to shorten my own now, Yes, human souls in their native land

Turn it on the underside, turn it inside out.

Ancestral roots are stronger than walls.

And if you cut down the roots of the tree, The people will fall into foreign captivity, The glory of the grandfather will bleed!

I tell you: do not break your way of life.

Only in vain you will suffer.

New songs will not drown out the old ones, Nothing will work for them!

Prince Vladimir, overwhelmed with rage, He slammed again with a heavy right hand:

- Do not mix it, Boyan! Be quiet, Boyan!

Have pity on your riotous head!

And Boyan to him: - Do not knock with your hand!

You will not order Perun to reign!

He happened to be fifty centuries old

To rule in native Russia.

It was he who took Constantinople with our army.

It was he who was the testament of courage.

It was he who went to the battle with slanting, Dressing up in the armor of Ilya Muromets.

He was the one who tempered the guys in battles, So that souls are not wrapped up in peace, To be appreciated above all other benefits

The stormy scope of Russian prowess!

Perun did not teach: if they hit on the cheek, Substitute another quietly, And Perun taught to repulse the enemy, So that the offender howled nauseously!

That is why Svyatoslav was so fond of him!

Russia did not know more accurately a keeper!

Know Perun in his own image

Created such a warrior!

And when Olga-mother to the Bosphorus

I swam for overseas baptism, It was not in vain that Svyatoslav started a dispute with her.

Remember, prince, the words of Svyagoslavov!

He embarrassed the princess mother, In his hearts he asked with contempt:

Isn't it shameful for us to amuse the squad

Obscene baptism of others ?!"

If you accept, prince, the Christian "way"

To us in Russia, I say in advance, The churchmen will fly with crows, They will bring "holy scripture".

Although this scripture is called "holy", It is difficult to find a more depraved book.

It contains lies, filth, and shameful fornication, And enmity, and brotherly betrayal.

We'll bother you from their "hallelujah"

That in a dream we have not seen!

They will sing in Russia: "Isaiah, rejoice!"

They will praise the psalms of David.

Alien, alien words

They will screech with an unlubricated cart.

And the beauty will fade from them

Russian speech, knitted with silks!

If the grandfathers eat one cranberry, The grandchildren will be sore on their cheekbones.

The churchmen will do a lot of troubles, They torment the people with splits.

Brother will rise to brother and family to family!

Oh, fierce enmity between loved ones!

Again, strife will go across Russia, Our most vile thief from time immemorial!

Not for good, not for good, you have conceived, prince, Summon overseas presbyters to Russia! -

The old man spat in the gridnitsa, getting angry, And he left without wiping that spit.

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