Why is everything wrong?! Still it looks like the same - The same sky in the color of cobalt. The same woods, the same air, the water is tame - But he hasnít returned from a combat. I will not apprehend, me or he - who was right While debating at nights in a shelter, but I have started to miss him - just he wasnít in sight, - When he had not returned from a combat. He was awkwardly silent, sang - a nasty surprise, Always spoke deviating from a standard. He impeded my sleep, he got up at sunrise. Yesterday - wasnít back from the combat. Now empty is here, but it isnít the point, I feel - the windís blown out the candle. I have noticed at sudden, how tightly weíre joined, When he had not returned from a battle. Now springís broken away the capture of cold, By mistake I have asked as a robot: Hey pal, let a smoke! - but the air is bold: Yesterday - wasnít back from the combat. Our dead wonít ever leave us in trouble, Our fallen guard us like sentinels. The sky blooms the forest, either calm or humble, And the trees there are standing in blueness. There were quite enough room at our dug-out, The time for both of us glided or rattled. Now all is for me. But Iím feeling about: It was me who didnít come out of a battle.
© Vyacheslav Chistyakov. Translation, 2009