Ballad About The Soldier Poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

This story is about the soldier, an ordinary guy

who wanted to live, didn't want to die.

He was a good friend, his classmates said,

the things he did were not a regret.

He lived and dreamed, breathed the same air with us,

he was so much naive and it was his plus.

He was the guy of ready sympathy and brave

just and ordinary guy who would never liked to be a slave.

Nobody could deny that he was a bit of a hesitating guy

as he couldn't make his girlfriend a declaration of love,

to tell her that she was his darling dove.

He didn't want to kill or be killed, just hated the war

but he's got an order and had to go for the war

without even knowing what for.

He was told that he would save the land

and military service was a big grand.

He was not explained why should he kill,

he went to the war against his will.

But he was the servant of his country, had to obey the orders

and wear the soldiers straps on his shoulders.

Have you seen the eyes of his mother when they were to part?

She had an embarrassed look when the parting had a start.

Have you seen the eyes of his girlfriend?

They were the eyes of a frightened creature.

She felt as he would never again reach her.

Have you seen the guy's eyes?

They had a look as he was in a hook.

He didn't want to part with his family, friends, beloved,

he wanted to live, love and be loved.

In a foreign strange land he walked

had no time to sleep or talk.

He walked and walked through the stormy winds

through the hard rains without any complaints.

He walked through the mud and blood

as he had to obey the orders and remember

he was not a cub and had no time for a cud.

But... all of a sudden everything around became dark,

his body felt a terrible pang

and it seemed to him as the bell rang.

Then the pain disappeared and he saw a beautiful park

with birds and angels, they sang beautiful song,

Then he heard the voice of a gong.

Yes, he went to another world were everything was pearled.

With the loss of one soldier nothing has changed,

But.... Is it really so? For his mother he was the world

and it was strange that she wouldn't be able to see him,

to hear his voice, and if she had a choice

she would give anything for his knock at the door

and his voice telling: Don't worry, dear mum!

I am in a hurry now, but I'll come back soon before the rising Moon.

The soldier's heart stopped beating far away from home

in the place with unfamiliar name.

Now tell me! Who is to blame that his photo is in the black frame?

He was one in the stream of soldiers,

the stream of broken destinies and lives,

the stream of unappeasable human sorrow

which made in the souls a deep furrow.

The war happened to be a thief

which had stolen lives or made them a big grief.

Life is going on; we live, we love, we work

building new bridges that were destroyed by war

but if we want to build a happy life

we have to remember that soldier who was killed in the war.

We have to understand: war can only ruin and break

for someones crazy sake.

It ruins and kills not only humans bodies

but destroys our wonderful land,

little by little turning it into the sand.

We have to remember that soldier

if we don't want the war to repeat,

we have to remember those losses

if we want our land to be complete.

We don't have to forget those who experienced the war,

they still give a start hearing a thunderstorm

thinking it was another bomb.

We have to realize that even one soldier is a part of the world

and the loss of that soldier means a split

in the integrity of the whole world.