In the walls of a restaurant there’s a usual sight:
Three bears, a shot dead spreaded knight.
A captain’s sitting lonely, the bears beside.
"Can sit here" - I asked. "That’s all right."

"Here you, smoke!" - "I’m sorry, don’t smoke Kazbek",
"Should you drink then?! A glass! Here’s a pot".
"Well, I’ll wait them to fetch..." - "Drink, and not a step back!
Healthy be!" - "I’ll be healthy a lot."

"What of it?" - The captain exclaimed, gotten more or less drunk, -
"Drinking vodka you’ve managed not bad!
But, have you ever been close to a machine-gun or a tank,
Have you ever, say, rushed to an attack?"

"In 43-rd, under Kursk, was a sergeant that time,
Lots of things are behind of my back.
Dirty things were left over the back of mine! -
To enable you to live so well packed."

He kept cursing and drank, I was following his step.
Yet, at the end of the whole conversation,
Insulted I him: "Well, captain, I bet,
Be a major is a vain expectation".

Then he cried, and he asked me about my dad,
And he jelled looking dully at dishes:
"I’ve given up all my life for your sake, a bad,
bastard, spending his life as he wishes!"

"I would give you a rifle and would send to a fight,
Filthy scoundrel gulping vodka with me?!"
I was feeling myself at the Kursk Bow site
Where the captain used a sergeant to be.