Legend Poem by Victor Sklyarov

The enemies approached
The borders of the kingdom,
Severe and well coached,
The end came to a fiefdom.

All men to death were ready
Though fiend was overtop
Their spirit being steady
But king had ordered stop.

He said, Let’s try our fortunes,
From fate there’s no flying,
Let’s toss our lots in waters.
Will sink the lots of dying,

Let them screen-shield the door-steps
Of women and the children
They’ll be our last forces
In case the walls have yielded.

Will turn down lots of wounded -
They will defend the fortress
Don’t be on ill thoughts brooded
Just make it foe’s hospice.

Remaining with me foray
At enemy at daybreak
Be fearless, with hurray
For us е р у Death await may.

Resembling the forked lightning
Against the thousands
They fought from early brightening
Till the sundown and

The corpses were surmounting
The fortress and at dusk insiders
With wild shouting
Had stopped remaining idlers,

Making disperse foe’s army
At night returned to fortress -
They were alive without harming -
At face of death they were so faultless.