This August day will be glorifiedin songs and bows. Today we are a nation, no longer fools. It would be full. And Sakharov alive has come to save this - our parliament - lighting his glasses cracked by the ground. The conscience of - even in the tanks - Yeltsin rises on the turret and around him there are no ghosts of the past Kremlin rulers, but real Russians, not yet vanished, and are tired within them, victims of the lights.
No, never again, Russia will be on its knees. With us are Pushkin, Tolstoy. With us are people forever awakened. And the Russian parliament like a wounded marble swan of freedom defended by our people swings into immortality.