I'd like to go to some distant place, to a village. I'll be teaching children, just like Varvara Vasilyevna.
From now on, you're not just boys and girls, you are schoolchildren. I will teach you how to read, write and count. You will learn a lot of things. Long ago, I myself studied at this school. It was a small, badly lit hut then, and our teacher was Varvara Vasilyevna.
From now on, you're not just boys and girls, you're schoolchildren. You'll learn how to read, write and count. You'll become literate. I will tell you why day comes after night, who lives overseas, why the wind blows, where the rivers flow to. I will teach you to dream.
From now on, you're notjust boys and girls, you're schoolchildren. You will learn how to read, write and count. You will become literate and, therefore, strong. No bad people will be able to cheat you, because you will know a lot of things.
I'll be afraid of her in 10 years, in 20 years, and even after I die.
I have a strange feeling that with each street I get to know you better.
Our people are dying from hard work. Their rheumatic hands can't scribble. Perhaps some fool will send his little rascal to school, but I doubt it.
The sky, fir trees and the sand - A sad road for one to make... Hey, get on with me, my friend! Barefooted, gaunt and smutty, With your body barely clad...Don't be ashamed! L´s nothing. This is the way many a fine man had. Soon at school you'll get it known How a peasant from Arkhangelsk State, By Gods will and by his own Came to be so learned and great.
That is why I love you so Mother Russia, my dear fate! Gifted must be such a nature, Wondrous must be such a land. That is making men of stature Out of simple folk - what a trend!
We're the young guard of workers and peasants! We're the young guard of workers and peasants!
All my life I've been teaching your children at that school. They came to me like newborn kittens. Knowing nothing about this world. And I taught them to read and write, and all good things in life. Some of them are flying high now, but you can't kill me. Then you'll have to kill all the children I taught. Can you count how many? They know the truth I taught them.
♪ Oh my ploughs, oh my feet, Change my bills, they're not counterfeit. ♪
♪ Those bills are not so new, Twenty-five rubles for them due. ♪
♪ I carted cabbages for my mother-in-law... ♪
♪ In a noisy big ballroom, I saw you In the whirlwind of everyday fuss. ♪
♪ Your face was a mystery though, Concealed by some secret from us.
♪ Your eyes so sad, melancholy, Your voice like a magical call, Its sound now ethereal, holy,
♪ Now swelling in a sea-going roll. ♪
♪ I liked your so slender a figure, The way you were lost in deep thought, ♪
♪ Your laugh both pensive and eager Would never my heart have forgot. ♪
♪ At night hour lonely and boundless, ♪
♪ When, tired, I rest after work, I'm seeing your doleful countenance, I'm hearing your cheerful talk. ♪
♪ And, sadly, to sleep I go, And see mysterious dreams. ♪
♪ Do I love you? I don't know. ♪
♪ And still, I do love you, it seems. ♪