Around the burn candles and evening prays,
Around the war trophies and peaceful bonfires,
The children who like to read books is lived,
And who were unhappy because their little childish disasters.

The children is always unhappy
With their age and life -
So we fought till scratches,
Till mortal insults.

But our dresses were patched
By our mothers in time,
Because we war reading books,
And we were drunk from text lines.

Our hairs was stick to perspiring foreheads,
And we felt hunger when read those phrases.
And our head were dizzi from odor of fight,
That was flow out of book pages turned in yellow.

And we was trying to understand -
We, who never knew the war
Who though
the howl is war-cry

[So we tried to understand]
The mystery behind term «Order»
The use of borders,
The purpose of attack and clang of chariots.

In boiling boilers of previous fights and distempers
So many foods for our small brains!
So, to the roles of betrayers, cowards and Judas
We was assign own enemies in our childish games.

Then we were chasing them
While their footprints was still hot,
And we was promise to the beautiful ladies
To love them;

Then we was calm down our friends
And while show the gratitude to our close peoples,
We has assigned to the role of hero
Self.

However, it’s impossible to stay in dreams forever:
The time of games is short - so much pain around!
Just try to open flat of the hand of dead person
And accept the weapon from work-worn hands.

Try to test, when you got
The sword that is still warm
And equipthe armors, -
How it’s fell like, how its feel like!

Find out, if you coward
Or the chosen by destiny,
Then taste
The real fight.

Then, when your injured friend will fall down near your
And you will cry on your first loss,
And when you jump out of your skin
Because he was killed, instead of you -

You will got that you just understand,
Saw the difference and find out
By looking onto grin -
This is grin of death!

Look at the lie and evil,
How ugly their faces,
And they always left behind -
The ravens and coffins!

If you never used knife to eat the meat from it
If you were standing on the top of all with folded hands and looking down,
And didn’t fought with scoundrel and executioner -
This means you are not related with life!

But if you were clearing your way
With your father’s sword
And the salty tears
Were fall on your mustache,

If in hot fight
You did understand how it’s like,
This means the correct books
You were read in child time!