Here’s too bleak for you, Too high for you - The avalanches fly from the sky on you. Rock after rock tumbles down into the dale. You could just stop, Walk around the drop, But we picked the hard route to the top - The high-risk path, the military trail. You guard your health, Look after yourself, But you never truly test yourself Though down below you catch stars from the sky. You’re fine below, But you’ll never know A tenth of the beauty and wonders on show Up here - however much you try. No rosy wreath For the deceased - The stone that fell and gave you peace: It is no monumental stone. The shining ice, The emerald spire, Up high the everlasting fire You’ve not conquered on your own. Yes, let them talk, Let them talk again, But nobody ever dies in vain - Best die this way than from vodka or the flu. More will try the test, Give up their rest, Take the risk and strive for best And make the walk that seems too hard for you. The cliffs are steep Don’t go to sleep! Luck won’t keep you from the deep. You can’t depend on ice nor rock up here. We rely on hands, A friend’s strong grip And hammering in our trusty clip - Our insurance to overcome our fear. We hack our steps. There’s no return. Your knees just quake and start to bum. And your heart pounds right out of your head You hold the world, You feel the thrill, And yet you feel a little envious still Of the lucky ones who’ve still the climb ahead.
© John Farndon + Olga Nakston. Translation, 2022