Mother Russia how are you sleeping. Middle winter cold winds blow. From the trees the snowflakes drifting. Swirling round like ghosts in the snow. Mother Russia poetry majestic. Tells the time of a great empire. Turning round the old man ponders. Reminiscing an age gone by. Mother Russia. Dance of the tsars. Hold up your heads. Be proud of what you are. Now it has come. Freedom at last. Turning the tides of history. And your past. Mother Russia. Dance of the tsars. Hold up your heads. Remember who you are. Can you release. The anger the grief. Can you be happy. Now your people are free