In the safety of bedrooms, beneath candlelight,
In the world of war trophies and bonfires of peace,
Kids were living adventures, knowing no real fights.
Lived and languished their small tragedies.
Boys are always a lot
burdened by their years,
And each other we fought,
fought to scratches and tears,
But our mothers repaired
our clothes in time.
While we stared and swallowed
books, line by line.
We were enchanted with books casting their spell.
We were enamored with the magical age.
And our heads were spinning from the magical smell
When it carried the spirit of battle from every page!
We have never known wars,
but we honestly tried,
Wielding our plastic swords,
Imitate battle cries,
Comprehend the commands
and mysterious words:
"Charge" and "ambush" and "borders"
and "war chariots".
Boiling in cauldrons of historyís wars
Thereís so much food to digest with our brains.
For the slots of traitors, deserters and other bad roles
We appointed our personal enemies in our games.
In the world of our games,
villains werenít let off.
And our beautiful dames
we would swear to love.
And the weak we consoled
and protected our friends,
And for heroesí roles
we appointed ourselves.
But inside the books one cannot eternally hide.
Plays donít last, for thereís so much pain in this world.
Try unclenching the fist of a friend that just died,
And from the labored hand take the labored sword!
With your armor on
and the blade in your hand,
What is right, what is wrong,
you try to understand.
Try to learn who are you?
Born for battle or flight?
Feel the taste of the true
and the ultimate fight.
And when by your side your comrade is killed,
And over this loss now you howl like a wolf,
And when you feel like you have been skinned,
Just because it is him who is dead - but not you!
Thatís when you realize
you now found your path
In the skulls without eyes -
itís the snarl of death!
Lie and evil, you see
how cruel is their gaze!
And their road always leads
to the crows and graves.
But if youíve never eaten your food off a knife
If you calmly observed from on high all your life,
If you didnít challenge the wicked and wrong,
Then in real life you have never belonged!
But if you made your way
with your fatherís sword
Taking heed whatís around
you: both tears and joy.
In the heat of the battle
your lesson was learned.
Then you have read some valuable
books as a boy,