In the midst of swam candles and evening prayers, Amidst the spoils of war and p

In the midst of swam candles and evening prayers, Amidst the spoils of war and peaceful fires Book children lived, who did not know battles, Iзнывая от мелких своих катастроф. Детям вечно досаден Iх возраст и быт — I дрались мы до ссадин, To the bitter end, But the clothes were patched up We have mothers on time — We were swallowing books, Pianea from a stroke. Hair stuck to our sweaty foreheads, I сосало под ложечкой сладко от фраз, I кружил наши головы запах борьбы, From the yellowed pages, flying at us. I пытались постичь Мы, who did not know wars, For a warlike cry Those who were howling, The mystery of the word “order”, Designation of borders, The meaning of the attack and clanging War chariots. And in the boiling boilers of the old slaughterhouses and turmoil So much food for our little brains! We're traitors, cowards, Judas In children's games, enemies were appointed. I злодея следам Не давали остыть, I прекраснейших дам Обещали любить; I, друзей успокоив I ближних любя, We're heroes We introduced ourselves. But you can't run away to dreams for good: A short age of fun — so much pain around! Попытайся ладони у мёртвых разжать I оружье принять из натруженных рук. Iспытай, завладев Ещё тёплым мечом I доспехи надев, — What for how much, what for how much! Figure it out, Who are you: трус Iль избранник судьбы — I попробуй на вкус Настоящей борьбы. I когда рядом рухнет израненный друг I над первой потерей ты взвоешь, grieving, I когда ты без кожи останешься вдруг Оттого, that they killed him — not you, Ты поймёшь, what I found out, Distinguished, found I took it by a grin — This is the grin of death! Lies and Evil — Look, How rude their faces are, I всегда позади Вороньё и гробы! if мяса с ножа Ты не ел ни куска, if руки сложа Наблюдал свысока, But he didn't join the fight With a scoundrel, with the executioner, — So you've been in real life It has nothing to do with it, nothing to do with it! if, cutting through the path with my father's sword, You put salty tears on your head, if в жарком бою испытал what for how much, — So you read the right books when you were a !

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