We are pulled to the ground like ballast.
We are tenacious, light like phalanxes,
On the feet shackled in flippers,
And our bodies - in aqualungs.

Into the deep it is not easy to get,
We compress till the cheekbones cramp,
We fear the caisson disease
And, maybe, - sharks.

Thirst tormented - could do with water!
Here it is beautiful - all these are fairy tales, -
Here are only goggle-eyed fish
They look astonished into our masks.

We can understand the ones lying in beds,
Come to know the searching of the ford?!
We must get to the destination,
Where our third man is without oxygen.

We weep - even if we are men:
He is crammed in a coral cave, -
Like a true knight of the deep,
He died with an open visor.

May fate prove enduring, -
He made what he could and should do, --
Victory celebrated the coincidence, -
Now what else, we shall prolong it tomorrow!