Translated by Ollie Richardson & Angelina Siard
In the former Ukraine the song-protest movement of people, who “unexpectedly” found themselves in an occupation in their native land, is growing.
And me, I remember how back in 2011, we, Crimeans, along with Odessans, having spat on the rat Yanukovych and on the decision of the court that was forced by the mayor of Lvov Sadovy, banning VICTORY DAY on the territory of the city, we went there and raised the victory BANNER over the Hill of Glory.
We were celebrating together with dozens of elderly people of Lvov, surrounded by the roaring of thousands of packs of non-humans, which were restrained by Berkut of Lvov.
“Berkut” members were not numerous at all. But the Nazis, at this time, did not risk to burn and “break” like in 2013-2014.
In a small photo-video report of the Crimean journalist Alexey Vasiliev, published a few days later, only the blind couldn’t see the future of Ukraine. After what happened in Lvov on May 9th 2011, only a complete and utter fool, possessing imperious powers, could continue to flirt with the elemental forces, believing that it is possible to control and guide it in the right direction.
(With reference to the video above) On 09.05.11 in Lvov, before Maidan: Long time resident of Lvov with flowers in her hand, in answer to the question if many people come to the monuments of perished Soviet soldiers on Victory Day, explains that “they” (banderists) don’t understand or don’t want to understand that such people like Aleksandr Marchenko (the name on the monument’s plaque that no longer exists) gave his life liberating this city from fascists, entering it in his tank.
To the question “when did all this start”, she replies “just after the break-up (of the Soviet Union)”. She asks what was it in the names of streets like “Peace Street” or “Pushkin Street, Lermontov Street” that disturbed them so much? She is then asked “what is Peace Street now called”, to which she answers “Bandera Street”. She adds that they called it like that because Bandera was imprisoned in the first building on the street.
On the 8th of May, late at night, sitting in a rented flat on Armyanskaya Street, we didn’t know how this Victory Day would finish for us. Yes, there was nervousness and excitement. But there was no fear. Because we were in our country, on our land. We sat at the tiny kitchen and sang a song from the “Belarusian station”. Voiceless, out of tune. But sincerely as never before.
We, the heirs of the Winners, could not, and had no right to give up our Victory for the desecration by these ghouls that have crawled out into the daylight from the mouldy Banderist caches.
We had to open the eyes of the world to this “return of the living dead” from the underworld; to give the world a chance to stop these ghouls before it’s too late.
Before Odessa became ablaze…
Before the cluster bombs were dropped in the center of Lugansk…
Before the airport named after Sergei Prokofiev was turned into ruins…
Before all were still alive…
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