By Khalil Rza Uluturk
Turan and Turkestan.
Grain-raising Ukraine, joyful Belarus,
Tallinn and Riga.
Rus1 seized all this, but had no time to swallow,
Cuckold, son of a cuckold.
They say the empire of evil has pegged out,
Shall we believe it?
If this viper2 has pegged out,
Then who stirs up Sadval against us?
Spit into his spiteful eyes or look with hatred!
Look, until his remains turn into dust,
Is this good-for-nothing ashamed?
He is not a man, he is Rus, Rus.
Lord of hunger and blood,
His bayonet is sharper than fire, his eyes are as cold as ice – Rus,
Even the best of them, Pushkin, wrote:
"Accept it, Caucasus, Yermolov is coming."
The idiot wrote just like this.
Who entered Kelbajar like into hell,
Into poisoned death,
Turning shells into … tanks,
If not the Russian, then who
Sowed fire and death in Geytep and Shushi?
Architect of hell,
Poison of mouths –