Why is everything wrong? Looks like nothing has changed: Vault of heaven, again, the same azure, The same wood, the same air, the same water, again, Only he isn’t back - killed in action. Now it’s late to decide whose account was more sound In our wrangles void of bedtime and leisure. I have only begun to feel need of him now That he hasn’t returned, killed in action. He sang songs out of tune, he kept mute out of place, Speaking far from the point was his fashion, He was up with the birds, he disrupted my rest, And, the other day, was killed in action. It is needless to say I’m like empty within We’re a duo, it suddenly flashes. It’s for me like a fire blown out by the wind, Now that he isn’t back, killed in action. Free, as if out of jail, Spring is raging around. I turn round to him by distraction: "Brother, give me a smoke", in response not a sound, He, the other day, was killed in action. In a mess, killed in action will never desert us, Our fallen will always stand ground. Wild blue yonder is mirrored in woods, like in water, And cerulean trees stand around. In a blindage, there’s been room enough for the two, For the two, time’s been evenly measured. All is left but to one. Only there is a mood It is me who’s not back, killed in action.
© Vyacheslav Chetin. Translation, 2009