- published: 17 Oct 2014
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Blackcurrant, Ribes nigrum, (Phalsa or Falsa) (Urdu: فالسہ ) is a species of Ribes berry native to central and northern Europe and northern Asia, and is a perennial.
It is a small shrub, growing to 1–2 m tall. The leaves are alternate, simple, 3–5 cm long and broad, and palmately lobed with five lobes, with a serrated margin. The flowers are 4–6 mm diameter, with five reddish-green to brownish petals; they are produced in racemes 5–10 cm long.
When not in fruit, the plant looks similar to the redcurrant shrub, distinguished by a strong fragrance from leaves and stems. The fruit is an edible berry 1 cm diameter, very dark purple in colour, almost black, with a glossy skin and a persistent calyx at the apex, and containing several seeds dense in nutrients. An established bush can produce up to 5 kilograms of berries during summer.
Plants from Asia are sometimes distinguished as a separate variety, Ribes nigrum var. sibiricum, or even as a distinct species Ribes cyathiforme.
There are many cultivars of blackcurrant, including: Amos Black, Ben Alder, Ben Avon, Ben Connan, Ben Dorain, Ben Gairn, Ben Hope, Ben Lomond, Ben Loyal, Ben More, Ben Sarek, Ben Tirran, Ben Zona, Big Ben, Boskoop Giant, Cotswold Cross and Wellington XXX.
On that day flowed the river of blood
In groans tearing skies hope was dying
Every drop of this flood took it away into mud
Cold earth was crying
On that day the river of blood was flowing
On that day heroes were born their power was growing
Black chains on my hands are pulling down to earth
My blades are captured
Alas
I wish I fell like my brothers but cruel fate
With out demur dictates
I hate to live on
Alone
Quick as lighting my appeal will dash off
Night feel my will
With pain call to arm
Will pierce the mind
Again their anger will shudder earth
None will flee
They will rise to follow the call to fight
But now at night
I can hear hopeful voice
She calls to me
My fate is not to be with thee
The first sun beam
I hear the rustle you approach
I never thought I could so close feel your embrace
Thud of hoofs clink of blades storm of arrows
All as one
That was price for their death
Heroes are not to be forgot
On that day flowed the river of blood