Hereís not a plain surface, and climate is wrong, And avalanches are going in row, And after the rockfall youíll see the another rockfall, You may go aside, or miss bad steep thus, But now we choose the difficult path, As dangerous as military path. Who hasnít been here, who had no risk - Who hasnít test ever himself on the cliffs, Though underneath he was awarded by stars, At foot he canít find, any wishes despite, For all his long and happy life, One-tenth of such a beauty and a charm. That was not a rose, nor a funeral band, And not like a cold and high monument Was stone, which brought you gift of the rest, - The mountain top is sparkling in day With emerald ice - the Eternal flame, The conquest, which was only your fail. But let they say right, and let they say wrong - Thereís nothing and no one vainly gone! Thatís better, than from vodka, or from flu! The others will change the comfort, though, For risk and the excesive work, And will cross the uncrossed by you marshroute. The vertical walls... Be careful now! Donít hope for only luck, thought without, In mountains neither a rock, or an ice could be safe. We only rely on hardness of hands, On friendís hand, the driven hooksís strength, And pray, that the equipment wouldnít be bad. We cut here the stairs... No any step back! And out of tension the knees go shake, And heart is ready to run to the top at one step. The world is in palm! Youíre happy and quiet! But only jealous to those ones, Whose tops are there in future life, as yet.
© Lyudmila Purgina. Translation, 2011