They make us stay here motionless. How long - I don't remember anymore
|
We lack the air of words and sleep
|
In the throats of dried saliva, dust
|
Two pages as far as the eye can see
|
The lines of the trenches go on
|
And we are waiting - time passes
|
And they still don't send us to attack!
|
You will say - there is nowhere to hurry!
|
And that's the truth - what's there to hide?
|
But when we are sent to the trenches
|
It must be an attack sometime!
|
There is only one way from here
|
Where hostile horizons blur
|
Otherwise, a field court
|
And giving yourself to yours - this is a fat mistake!
|
After all, they are only maneuvers
|
The glasses shine on the hills of the binoculars
|
Everything is a strategic game
|
Which I have to take part in!
|
A colleague asks again and again
|
What if they hit us
|
One answer must be:
|
We just won't live!
|
Scream! |
And we go to attack
|
To the exposed slopes of the hills
|
There are bursts of black bushes all around
|
Smoke! |
Bang! |
And you can't see anything anymore!
|
My head is fluttering in panic
|
Like a scared bird in a cage - a pulse
|
So I'm alive! |
Are these blank cartridges?
|
Could it be bullet blindness ?!
|
Then I stop in place
|
Where is the friend, where is the enemy ?!
|
I can't see him! |
He sees me!
|
Shot! |
Pain! |
And I'm flying off my feet!
|
I am lying - I keep my face to the ground
|
I feel my own breath from her
|
From far away what mine was absorbed by the scream
|
Three paramedics are coming ...
|
Every now and then I hear a dry shot
|
I hold my terrified breath
|
It is for those who survived the battle frenzy
|
He's killing those three!
|
They're just around the corner! |
I freeze and they approach, leaning over ...
|
I see three familiar faces
|
Shot!
|
They killed me.
|
- Wake up - I open my eyes - the field
|
A colleague - a trench - pole flags.
|
Nightfall. |
We are still waiting for our turn.
|
We live. |
Dreaming death. |