No crosses are put on the brotherly graves And here, no widows are mourning - Some only bring flowers to honor the place And keep the Eternal flames burning This earth used to spurt and abandon its sleighs But now - it just sleeps in the sun. And here, there are no individual fates All the fates have grown into one. In the Eternal Flame there’s a flickering tank, We observe Russian villages smolder, The burning Smolensk, the burning Reichstag, And the burning heart of a soldier. No mourning widows come to this place The people who come here are tougher No crosses are put on the brotherly graves But that doesn’t bring any comfort...
© Andrey Kneller. Translation, ?