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Завтра была война

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not a man,
because he's just
beaten a girl.
And I'm going to remind him
what a real man is.
A real man
is the one who loves
only two women.
Yes, only two.
What's so funny?
His mother
and the mother of his children.
A real man is the one
who loves the country
he was born in.
A real man is the one who would
give his last ration to his friend
even if he himself was
to die of starvation
A real man is the one
who loves all people
and respects all people,
and hates the enemies of those people.
And you must learn to love
and learn to hate.
Those are the most
important things in life.
And I'm your new principal,
Nikolai Grigoryevich Romakhin.
Those are worthy principles.
One should live not by directives,
but by ideas.
And what is our main idea?
Our main idea is
bringing up the citizens
of the new socialist society.
So we're going to dump
all kinds of directives.
We'll do like this.
On the 1st floor - 1st and 6th grades.
On the 2nd - 2nd, 7th and 8th grades.
On the 3rd - 3rd and 9th grades.
On the 4th - 4th, 5th and 10th grades.
This way, they will all mingle
and there'll be friendship.
Where are our worst troublemakers?
ln the 4th and 5th grades.
They'll be under the eye of the elders
and the elders will watch them.
And no pupils on duty.
Let them run over all floors.
A child is
an elementally free creature.
Why needlessly put him behind bars?
This is firstly.
And secondly,
we have girls growing up here.
And there's only one mirror in the
school, in the principal's office.
New mirrors must be installed in
all girls' toilets tomorrow.
- Are we going to grow tarts?
- Not tarts.
Though I think
you don't know what I mean.
Pashka, what's wrong with the music?
One can't trust you with anything.
Come, Jim, give me your paw for luck,
I swear I've never seen one like it.
Let's go, the two of us, and bark
Up the moon when nature's silent.
Come, Jim, give me your paw for luck.
Stop licking me, pet, and please do
At least heed this advice I'm giving.
Of life you haven't got a clue,
You don't realize life is worth
More, please.
Dear Jim, l know a great variety
Of visitors of all sorts call,
But have you seen her here,
the saddest
And the least talkative of all?
I'm sure she'll come, and in my
Please catch her eye. Go kiss her
hand for me,
For all my real and fancied errors
Forgiveness of her in humility.
What a beautiful poem!
So good!
- Vika, whose poem is that?
- That's Yesenin!
Why... but...
Yesenin is a decadent poet.
He sings of taverns,
melancholy and depression.
I don't care if he's decadent.
But his poems are just wonderful.
Let's go, Artyom.
Iskra, you...
have you never read Yesenin?
Artyom, this is your birthday
present from us.
One, two.
The boy was knocked off in Irkutsk,
He was just seventeen...
I want to give you this book.
I never give it to anyone,
but I want you to read it.
Only take your time reading,
all right?
Thanks, Vika.
He was just smiling all the time,
Pretending he not understand.
They brought to him his own mother,
They brought her once, five times
in train.
He said: we've never seen each other,
And smiled all over again.
Don't push.
Polyakova, stay for a while.
Sit down.
Ostapchuk, close the door.
Don't you want to tell me something?
No, nothing.
Too bad.
I'm addressing you not only
as deputy secretary of
the Komsomol Committee,
not only as a high-principled
person with a sense of purpose.
But also because
I know your mother, Iskra,
a fine Part worker.
You may ask:
why this introduction?
Because now the enemies
use every opportunity
to demoralize our young people,
to tear them away from the Part,
to drive a wedge between
fathers and children.
That's why it's your sacred
duty to tell me.
I have nothing to tell you.
- Really?
- Yes.
Aren't you aware that
Yesenin is a decadent poet?
Didn't it occur to you that you were
gathered on the pretext
Завтра была война Завтра была война

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