Скачать или смотреть Poplar Trees - Slava Tolstoy. LIVE VIDEO. Тополя - Слава Толстой

It's a very important song for me - I wrote it during my last visit to Russia in the summer of 2021 and I played it at all of the concerts in support of Ukraine that I was honored to be a part of.
Now that russian government has declared me a "foreign agent" - modern day version of infamous "enemy of the people" stamp - the following line in the lyrics sounds particularly sad and full of dark irony: "Well hello, motherland, I’ve returned…"
Big thanks to Rob Flax for his assistance with creating rhymed English translation - click on CC.
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We recorded this version during the show in Cupertino, CA on January 19.
Slava Tolstoy - songwriting, guitar, vocals
Rob Flax - mandolin
Serge Kuzmin - video recording, editing
Serge Solo - live sound
Yuriy Bondarchuk - recording assistance, photos
Starget - video production
Art of Life - concert organizing
Rob Flax and Slava Tolstoy - English translation:

Poplar Trees

Somewhere beyond the world’s edge
Far from the news’ front page
Where the fields roll on endlessly
They grew there - the tall poplar trees

Softly the silver leaves ring
Shielding my home from all things
Your branches - a dense woven gate
That keeps the intruders away

When the thunder roars
And pain cuts to the core
And the ground disappears from beneath
With your silver pure
Will you shelter my door
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…

What sick sculptor made you this way
Strange people crafted from clay
Forgetting the wounds of the past
But i cannot lay them to rest

I hear the mothers' desperate cries
Their sons cut down before their eyes
Poplar trees chopped up and burned
Well hello, motherland, I’ve returned…

So the thunder roared
And death knocked on your door
And the ground disappeared from beneath
And the flames grew high
Peaks of gold in the sky
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…
Yes, the thunder roared
And death knocked on your door
And the ground disappeared from beneath
And the flames grew high
Peaks of gold in the sky
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…

Somewhere beyond the world’s edge
Far from the news’ front page
Where the fields roll on endlessly
They’ll grow again - tall poplar trees

No matter if you cut them all down
Or burn every one to the ground
If we sow seeds of good, be assured
Our world will be full of silver pure

So let the thunder roar
And trouble strike at you door
And the ground burn ablaze underneath
Shine your silver light
On my home, shine it bright
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…
Let the thunder roar
And trouble strike at you door
And the ground burn ablaze underneath
Shine your silver light
On my home, shine it bright
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…
Poplar trees, poplar trees, poplar trees…