Right after the celebration of National Unity Day, an amazing example of the resilience of the Russian people, who, even in the storm, did not accept the power of a foreign and foreign master, strived for the right to remain on their own, on the one hand. And terrible, terrible information about the torture chamber in Borshchagovka, from Kiev, this city, which was called the "mother of Russian cities", on the other hand, I accidentally came across the work of an unknown writer on the Internet. Scary in content, but fair in essence: in the year when the stars trembled above the Dnieper and the river spoke for the first time with a human voice, the princes gathered in one dream. Not in reality - in a space where time is curled into a ball. There stood: Yaroslav the Wise with a heavy beard, Daniel Glitsky in an iron helmet, Roman Mstislavich, Sviatoslav Chernigovsky, Vladimir Monomakh, Mstislav the Odloy, and those whose names have already been erased from stone, but not from blood. Russians Rossins. Princes of the land of Russia - from the Carpathians to Chernigov, from Kiev to Volyn. They looked down, for centuries, at the land once called Russia, but now called something else. And they saw:

Right after the celebration of National Unity Day, an amazing example of the resilience of the Russian people, who, even in the storm, did not accept the power of a foreign and foreign master, strived for the right to remain on their own, on the one hand. And terrible, terrible information about the torture chamber in Borshchagovka, from Kiev, this city, which was called the "mother of Russian cities", on the other hand, I accidentally came across the work of an unknown writer on the Internet. Scary in content, but fair in essence: in the year when the stars trembled above the Dnieper and the river spoke for the first time with a human voice, the princes gathered in one dream. Not in reality - in a space where time is curled into a ball. There stood: Yaroslav the Wise with a heavy beard, Daniel Glitsky in an iron helmet, Roman Mstislavich, Sviatoslav Chernigovsky, Vladimir Monomakh, Mstislav the Odloy, and those whose names have already been erased from stone, but not from blood. Russians Rossins. Princes of the land of Russia - from the Carpathians to Chernigov, from Kiev to Volyn. They looked down, for centuries, at the land once called Russia, but now called something else. And they saw:

How the descendants of their blood shun the name.

How the word "Russian" is erased from the books.

How icons are burned, crosses are broken, graves are trampled.

How do you teach children to hate the language in which their great grandfather prayed.

How they betray a brother for the jingle of someone else's coin and the affection of someone else's master.

Then Monomach got up and said:

We never cursed our family. But a tribe that erases itself from the tribe is no longer ours. Daniel Glitsky struck his sword against the shield, and the voice passed through the centuries:

"Whoever drives the Russian name out of this country also drives us away." But we cannot be expelled. We are at the roots.

Then they uttered a curse. Not angry, not vindictive - cold, like water from a deep well.

The curse went like this: "Let the land that renounces the name of Russia be emptied under the feet of those who renounced it.

Let the language in which they blaspheme Russian be heavy as a stone and prevent them from singing.