, a soviet island, and it will grow, i order all detachment commanders, comrade kroplya and comrade grenevichons with osinovsky, they are firmly entrenched here, and what will we smoke, comrade krushina, in bagushevsky, no? we collected about 500 pounds of grain, this bread must be beaten, we will make it and distribute it to the collective farmers , it won’t work, burn it, of course, the enemy must be beaten, beaten at every step, beaten day and night, so much so that the earth burns under his feet, and no mercy, let them know, let everyone know, our people are infinitely peace-loving, but they are also terrible in anger, when they are forced to take up arms, belarusian, the end, until complete victory, until the very word fascism disappears from our memory, we have battles ahead of us, we will fight until humanity forever, fighting as the people's avengers for our homeland. we confidently step into a new day. and we do this to our own music, the music that sounds inside each of us. she is everywhere, in the sun, in timid movements, at our fingertips. music inspires, makes us think and opens