Po šumama i gorama / По шумама и горама

Language: Serbian

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[Seconda guerra mondiale]
Una canzone di origine russa nata tra le guardie rosse bolsceviche durante la guerra civile del 1917-22 che vide affrontarsi l’Armata Rossa e l’Armata Bianca, con un biliancio finale oggi stimato in oltre 2.5 milioni di morti (qualche centinaio di migliaia più o meno).
Il testo originario ebbe parecchie versioni, attribuite ora allo scrittore Vladimir Alekseyevich Gilyarovsky (1853-1935) ora a tal Peter Parfenov.
La musica potrebbe essere di tal Cherniavsky (en.wikipedia)
Quella che qui presento è la versione in serbo cantata dai partigiani jugoslavi durante la seconda guerra mondiale.

По шумама и горама
наше земље поносне
иду чете партизана,
Славу борбе проносе!

Партизан сам, тим се дичим
То не може бити свак,
Умријети за слободу
Може само див-јунак!

Нека чује душман клети
крвави се води рат,
Прије ћемо ми умрети
Него своје земље дат'!

Казнићемо издајице,
Ослободит' народ свој,
Казаћемо целом сјету
Да се бије љути бој!

Црне хорде нас не плаше,
Крв херојска у нас ври,
Ми не дамо земље наше
Да је газе фашисти!

Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2014/2/7 - 08:52

Language: Serbian

Versione serba in alfabeto latino.

Po šumama i gorama
naše zemlje ponosne
idu čete partizana,
Slavu borbe pronose!

Partizan sam, tim se dičim
To ne može biti svak,
Umrijeti za slobodu
Može samo div-junak!

Neka čuje dušman kleti
krvavi se vodi rat,
Prije ćemo mi umreti
Nego svoje zemlje dat'!

Kaznićemo izdajice,
Oslobodit' narod svoj,
Kazaćemo celom svetu
Da se bije ljuti boj!

Crne horde nas ne plaše,
Krv herojska u nas vri,
Mi ne damo zemlje naše
Da je gaze fašisti!

Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2014/2/7 - 08:53

Language: English

Traduzione inglese da en.wikipedia.

Through the woods and hills
Of our proud country
March the companies of Partisans
Spreading the glory of struggle!

I'm a Partisan; of that I am proud.
Not everyone can be that,
To die for freedom
Only a giant-hero can!

Let the cursed foe know
A bloody war is waged
We will rather die
Than give our land!

We will punish the traitors
And free all our people,
We will tell the entire world
That a bitter fight is fought!

Black hordes don’t scare us
Heroic blood boils in our veins
We don’t allow our lands
To be trampled by Fascists!

Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2014/2/7 - 08:53

Language: English

Translation from the Songbook of the International Brigades, based on an existing French version (which itself was translated from an earlier Russian variant, hence the references to the White Army in Primorye).

I have normalized some of the punctuation, which was idiosyncratic in the original text (see link in commentary for the original).
Through the winter's cold and famine,
from the fields and from the towns
at the call of Comrade Lenin,
there arose the Partisans.

To the East swept forward the Partisans
through the swamps and on to the heights,
to attack and take Primorye,
the last stronghold of the Whites.

Battle-scarred and faded banners
fluttered bravely on before,
but far deeper was the crimson
of the recent wounds they bore.

That great day will ne'er be forgotten,
nor will lose its high renown,
when the Partisan Red-fighters
broke through and took the town.

They destroyed the White Guard forces
and to hell the bandits they hurled,
and on the Pacific Ocean
the workers' flag unfurled.

Contributed by Ty Milan - 2019/7/9 - 03:34

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