Itís not a flat plateau, and climate not right And avalanche kills like a lightning at night, Stone falling is sudden - it roars like a beast. Though one can return, choose easier turn But we are preferring most difficult zone As dangerous as military mist. Who hasnít been here, who didnít take chance That knows very little of charm and romance Regardless in life he was on the top a lot. On bottom you wonít see however you try In all your most and beautiful drive Even a fragment of colors and thrill of the top. No roses so pink and ribbons of weeds A stone - like death ticket - for our deeds Which never resembles a monument nest, And memory fire which glitters so bright And emerald ice on the slopes and the height The height never concord by you and the rest. In vain people say, let people say that But nobody perishes simply like that Much better if vodka or flue or a rat. Others will fight to win their height Strive with no rest to do their best To conquer the peaks you had dreamed with the rest. If mountain walls - always be on alert Donít think that the luck will prefer you a lot All hills - unreliable neither blue ice nor mysterious rocks. Only rely on the firmness of hands Mountain hook and the best help of friends And pray to the rope to survive in the dangerous shocks. Weíre cutting ice steps not a single step back Knees trembling and aching - the air in lack. The heart is quite ready to jump from the chest to the top. The whole world before you - you happy and dumb And only a little you envy that ONE, Who really knows what the triumph to be on the top.
© Alexander Spiridonov. Translation, 2022