Were They Alive Poem by Pavel Dimov

Ever green the hills are there for you.
And the skies are there always blue.
No mortal sword your bodies will defile.
No traitor’s arrows in your chests will pile.

Lords of holes and kings of wealthy lands,
Where is the strength of your mighty hands?
Where is the weapon that was once a friend?
The paintings only now can show its blade.

Last of my kind I dwell alone with these
Lost memories for friends and enemies.
And now that time has past another part
They are equally beloved in my heart.