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IVAN SAVIN
Ivan Savin (1899-1927) real name: Ivan Ivanovich Savolainen. During the civil war he fought together with his four brothers in the White movement. All of his brothers died. During the retreat of the White Army he became ill with typhus and was taken into a Crimean hospital. The town was suddenly occupied by the Reds and the forces of Makhno: Savin ended up in prison. Savin was saved only by virtue of his Finnish roots, he was finally released to Petersburgh, then in 1921 emigrated to Finland. The dreadful ordeals and the death of his brothers could not take away from Savin his deep, struggling love for his lost motherland and the bright hope that it will, finally, find itself.
России
Вся ты нынче грязная, дикая и тёмная.
Грудь твоя заплёвана. Сорван крест в толпе.
Почему ж упорно так жизнь наша бездомная
Рвётся к тебе, мечется, бредит о тебе?!
Бич безумья красного иглами железными
Выколол глаза твои, одурманил ум.
И поёшь ты, пляшешь ты, ты кружишь над бездною,
Заметая косами вихри пьяных дум.
Каждый шаг твой к пропасти на чужбине слышен нам,
Смех твой святотатственный ! как пощёчин град.
В душу нашу, ждущую в трепете обиженном,
Смотрит твой невидящий, твой плюющий взгляд…
Почему ж мы молимся о тебе, к подножию,
Трупами покрытому, горестно склоняясь?
Как невесту белую, как невесту Божию
Ждём тебя и верим в кровь твою и грязь?!
1922To Russia
Now you are dirty, wild, and dark,
Your chest is desecrated. The cross was torn off in the scuffle.
Why so persistently is our homeless life
Rushing to you, dreaming and raving about you?!
The mindless scourge of red iron needles
Has pricked out your eyes, has drugged your mind.
And you sing, you dance, you circle above the abyss,
Sweeping up with scythes the whirlwinds of drunken thoughts.
Your steps towards the precipice we hear from abroad,
Your sacreligious laughter smacks us like hail.
Inside our soul, awaiting with trembling hurt,
Sees your hateful, your spitting glance.
Why do we pray for you, at your feet,
Covered with corpses, sadly bowing?
As a white bride, as Gods bride,
We wait for you and believe in your blood and dirt?!
"Ishod", a painting by Russian artist Dimitry Beliukin
depicting the evacuation of the White Army in Sevastopol, Crimea."We, In Russia and Abroad"
Edition 2, March-April 2005 p 28