Zhanaozen - 2

2.Injured people. Mourning land. Mourning mother! Do not cry, stand strong our people! Without trembling, let the wild wolf be, Will it not heal its wounds with its tongue? Did cruelty nest in the stone hearts, Did we receive a curse from our ancestors? While believing we are a peaceful nation, We became a people who killed our own kin. Chopping at the roots of history, Seeking to poison the minds of the people. 'There was no nation called Kazakh,' said, To us our wise president. Ignoring the blood spilled by our ancestors, Fearless of the sacredness of our homeland. With pride blinding their two eyes, He denies all history began with us. Could there be a Kazakhstan today, Without the khans Janibek and Kerey? If they hadn’t set up their camp by the Shu. Ablai Khan, Bukhar Zhirau and Esim, To say they are not Kazakh is nonsense. Khan Qasim, Syzdik, Kenesary, Those who sacrificed their lives for their descendants. Do you dare to say that Syrym is not Kazakh, Or is it not Kazakh Makhambet and Isatay? Many heroes have fallen in the struggle, For the dawn of independence today!!! The roots of the Kazakhs are thick and deep, How could he know what lies beneath? From those roots, in every Kazakh's veins, Flowing with blood, the SPIRIT has sprouted. How could he know it will never die? Though it may seem temporarily extinguished! That SPIRIT hidden on the desolate sands, That SPIRIT is hidden on the distant ridges. It gives life, it gives blood to the roots, Howling like a blue wolf in the crimson twilight! That SPIRIT walks on this grassy slope, Soaked with the blood of ancestors, Reborn in every blade of grass! Do not think it died in vain, It did not die in vain! That SPIRIT walks in unclaimed grudges!!!