BlackSwan
Elder Member
Valentine
The Russian woke with tear crusted swollen eyes. An ache was starting to make its presence known...everywhere. groaning Valentine Rolled over and flopped back onto hes back. somewhere in his sleep, he noticed, he seemed to have stripped. As his body was bare of all clothing, save for the black and red boxer briefs clinging to his waist. sighing he sleepily rubbed his blurry dark eyes and tousled his already messy silver hair. Valentine, lifted his head slightly , attempting to locate a clock in the dark room, the only light being that of the suns trying to peek through the curtains. Angry red numbers glared at him from a night stand on his right, it was an old retro clock with strange buttons he couldn't seem to figure out. rolling again, Valentine sat up, and stretched his tones body, his muscles contracting and bones popping as he woke himself up.
Glancing around the dark room, Valentine began the search for clothing. yawning he stumbled out into the hallway in his boxers and made his way downstairs. "vhany one avake?" he called sleepily. getting no response, he made his way to the kitchen. grumbling inteligables in russian. Valentine shivered as his feat made contact on the bare tile. "Vike Russian Bathwater" he cursed making his way to the fridge and proceeding to set up breakfast. The Large Russian man began cracking 30 eggs in a bowl and hunted down a pan to fry bacon in. "maaay ble Bacon? oni imeyut sviney sirop ? (they have syrup pigs?)" shaking his head of this american strangeness he tossed the bacon on the skillet and began to whisk the eggs as the bacon cooked. after they were nice and creamy looking, he set the bowl aside, turned the bacon and grabbed another pan from the cabinet for the eggs.
Quietly He bagan to sing an old song in Russian.
"
Черный ворон, черный ворон,
Что ты вьешься надо мной?
Ты добычи не дождешься,
Черный ворон, я не твой!"
he sang in a low barritone, memories of his family flashing by.
"Что ты когти распускаешь
Над моею головой?
Иль добычу себе чаешь,
Черный ворон, я не твой!"
Of little Izchavel kneeling by her mothers disembowled body and weeping.
"Завяжу смертельну рану
Подаренным мне платком,
А потом с тобой я стану
Говорить все об одном."
Of his mother.
"Полети в мою сторонку,
Скажи маменьке моей,
Ты скажи моей любезной,
Что за Родину я пал."
"Отнеси платок кровавый
Милой любушке моей.
Ты скажи – она свободна,
Я женился на другой."
"Взял невесту тиху-скромну
В чистом поле под кустом,
Обвенчальна была сваха –
Сабля вострая моя."
"Калена стрела венчала
Среди битвы роковой.
Вижу смерть моя приходит –
Черный ворон, весь я твой!"
And of his death.
(song translation:
Raven black, why are you wheeling,
Over my head circling low?
Ever will your prey elude you.
Raven black, I am not yours!
Why do you spread wide your talons,
Over my head circling low?
Or do you sense prey beneath you?
Raven black, I am not yours!
Fly you now, off to my homeland,
And say to my mother dear,
Say to her, my darling mother,
That for Fatherland I fell.
Take my shawl, now stained with red blood,
To my darling, dearly loved.
Say to her that she is free now:
To another I am wed.
A smoldering arrow bound her to me,
Upon the fated battlefield.
Death, I see, is coming for me.
Raven black, I am now yours!)
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