Zhdanov. Press conference 2013
Zhdanov. Press conference 2013

Video: Zhdanov. Press conference 2013

Video: Zhdanov. Press conference 2013
Video: #pov the prince falls in love with the peasant #shorts #acting #tiktok 2024, May
Anonim

A normal person cannot be indifferent when his people are destroyed with the help of drugs, both legal (alcohol and tobacco) and illegal. Each person in his place can quite successfully solve these problems, first of all, by changing the programming for these substances in his head.

As an epigraph to the next video report by Vladimir Georgievich Zhdanov, we present poems on this topic, sent by our reader Sergei Orlov.

The good news came to Russia:

The people raised their angry gaze!

And fear eats away, not arrogance, Those who abused her yesterday.

The people are tired of the hangover

From the unrestrained wild drunkenness.

Where yesterday the longing was

Today there will be a battlefield.

There was the first fight with myself -

And the pool of flammable tears has dried up.

The second was with a slave fate -

And the whip was torn from the stinking clutches.

We are surrounded by evil, as of old, We cannot escape the third battle -

Fatherland faithful sons

Get up from their knees after prayer.

Like our grandfathers in the war

Enemies were smashed without a miss, Shoulder to shoulder, back to back

We will defend you, Russia!

_

Let no poems be written about us, May they not celebrate the sad feast, With an ax, with a machine gun - who with what, We stand up to defend our homeland.

As always, our enemy is hefty strong, But this time it is much more cunning:

Unable to defeat us with a sword, A heady potion is brought to us.

Only the dead do not take shame, And the living cannot live like this any longer:

Let the wild crowds of Judas

To trample on our land is godless.

Stop listening to enemies' slander

About the wretchedness of fatherly faith, And about laziness, and about the stupidity of grandfathers, And about Russian drunkenness without measure.

Isn't it time for us to understand

That envious malice persecuted

A hired regiment by a fierce evil

Dressed up in the wings of the seraphim.

The time is up to lie on the stove

Beer genes pretty mutilate, The hour has come to sharpen our swords

Get them drunk in a frantic battle.

And let them not write poetry -

There will be no one to celebrate our funeral

We will lie with our bones in the land of our fathers, Defending my homeland.

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