Poems...

So many brave lines, And beautiful phrases. But what good are they? Tears stream from the eyes. I cannot soothe the longing, I cannot forgive the sorrow. A pistol to the temple. What do I need a medal for? So many of them lie there, But I stand here. They would live and live, But death in battle. It would be better if I lay down myself And didn't see the pain, Of inconsolable mothers, Tears on their faces like salt. And what is the point now Of the insignia on my epaulettes? The pain of loss in my heart, I cannot unclench my fist. The squad is gone, I cannot bring them all back. Neither to sing in a parade, Nor to hear their laughter. Now, everyone, fall in, Here is my order. Too bad the ticket home Was a false promise. Sleep well, brothers, And have sweet dreams. How I wish I could join you And escape the war. Along life's path, a crossroad, A segment of fate is doomed. A break, a disruption, a pause. And again, an explosion and another battle. Victory and a universal feast. And tomorrow, again, to destroy the world. To shatter the era with a hammer, To mix the basements with the ceiling. To find a sprout in the ruins, To look and speak the truth. To build a new country, And then send everyone to the bottom. To see the essence and lose it, But you will never understand all this... To look and see that it is a dead end, But no, people don't hear the cry. I fell down, my crown was broken, I walk, I live, and I wait for the end. That moment when a hero will come With a huge gray mace. A blow, a blow, another blow! Here is his generous gift to us. He gave salvation from vanity, He destroyed false dreams. And after them, he took us away. But, listen, there is work to be done again. On the emptiness, a flower has sprouted. And our hero has come to it. He is building a new mess, Where is the floor now, and where is the attic?