Like a razor, the dawn slashed over his eyes, The triggers were like a magic sesame, There were arrows, at the mention of the lungs, - And the dragonflies took off from the leaky river, And the fun went - in two hands, in two hands! You lay down on your stomach and removed your fangs. Even the one who dived under the flags, He smelled the wolf pits with paw cushions; Someone who couldnít even catch up with a bullet Also in fear he cried and lay down - and weakened. To make life smile to wolves - not to hear, - We shouldnít love her, love her. And at death - a beautiful wide grin And healthy, strong teeth. Letís smile at the wolfís sneel to the enemy - Dogs havenít been washed with withers yet! But - on blood-tattooed snow Our painting: we are no longer wolves! We crawled, we picked up the dogís tails, To the heavens surprised muzzles of the other: Either the retribution poured on us from the sky, Either the world is over - and the brains are skewed, Only beat us in the rise of iron dragonflies. We soaked with blood under the lead rain - And they resigned themselves, deciding: we will not leave anyway! The snow melted hot with hot belly. This carnage was not started by God - man: Flying - flying, running - in the run ... You donít have to be with my pack. In equal weld - we are lucky. We wolves are good our wolf life, You are dogs - and death is your dog! Letís smile at the wolfís sneel to the enemy, To nip the cranks. But - on blood-tattooed snow Our painting: we are no longer wolves! To the forest - there are at least a few of you save! To the forest, wolves, itís harder to kill on the run! Take your feet, save the puppies! Iím tossing in front of half-black shooters And I call on the lost souls of wolves. Those who are alive are lurking on that shore. What can I do alone? I canít do anything! My eyes refused, my flair dulled... Where are you, wolves, a bye forest beast, Where are you, my yellow-eyed tribe?! ...I live, but now surround me Beasts that did not know the cries These are dogs, distant relatives of ours, We used to think of them as prey. I smile with a wolfís snitches to the enemy, Iím exposing rotten shards. But - on blood-tattooed snow The mural is melting: we are no longer wolves!
© Vladimir Lagutkin. Translation, 2020