Я убит подо Ржевом - пер. А. Твардовского

Наверное, сил на все стихотворение сразу не хватит...
---
I was killed at the Rzhev-town,
In the nameless peatbog,
In the company of five, at the left flank,
While the air raid burst.
I did heard the explosion,
I did not see a flash of light, -
As to the abyss from a steep rock -
No bottom, no a tire-cover.
And in the whole world ever
To the end of the days
No any tab, no any epaulet
From my soldier dress.
I - in depth, where roots find
Their forage in dark;
I - in field, where the green rye
Goes widely in clouds of dust.
I - in village, where a cock cries
So early in morning in dew;
I - at highway, where the cars tear
The solid air by the bodies anew;
Where one grass to other -
Thus the river spins a flood plain, -
Where no any mother
Would not come anyway.

Let you count, the living one,
How many years passed
From the first mention at that time
Of a town like Stalingrad.
The battle-front was then burning,
And without the end,
As the hem on the body...
I was killed, who winned now Rzhev?
Did they hold the positions
There, in the Middle Don?
This hard month all on kitty
Was laid on by our host.
Was it real that close to autumn
There was Don behind him,
And the waters of Volga
Did he touched by his wheels?
No, that can't be the truth.
That the aim was unreachful for foe!
No, no! How could it be so?
How could be for dead any soothe?
There was only one such a pleasure
For the mute dead in their existence:
We had fallen for our motherland,
Our land had escaped consequentl
Our eyes had grown dark,
Turned off th' fire in heart,
And on earth roll-call
There're not mentioned at all.
We are not able carrying
Our battle orders merited.
That's for you - living ones.
We have one joy to stand:
We were not vainly fighting
For our loved motherland.
Though our voice is inaudible, -
You should learn this, our brothers -
You should have stood as a hard wall,
Because of such a curse penalty
Of the dead, which's inevitable.

This ferocious right
Is forever with us, -
It pertains only to us -
Such a bitter, hatd right.
In the summer of forty two
I was buried without tomb,
All that was furtherto
In the future was lost.
Death deprived of events,
Which are usual to you,
Let they have consonance
To belief, our views.

Brothers, may be you've lost
Not the Don-river, may be
You have died and for Moscow.
You in a trans-Volga steppe
Dug up hastily trenches,
You had reach Europe's ends
Rushing forward in battles.

It's enough just to know,
That the last span of earth,
The last span on the road,
The war road long.
If you leave it, then your foot
You can't step no more
Backwards, that's the root,
That's the feature, from Which the fire up rose
Behind your backs,
The fire of forges
Of the Urals great.
And you turned away foes
Back to west.
May be, brothers, already
You've taken Smolensk?
And the enemy's smashed
On the other frontier?
May be you had reached yet
Even our state border?
Perhaps so... Let the oath's word holy
Be accomplished to all!
-
Berlin was, as you know,
Under Moscow called.
Brothers, what had thus trambled
All the towers of alien land...
If we, died, could cry fairly
From the land, where'd laid!
If the volly of victory
Could awaken us, mute,
Deaf in endless eternity,
Could revive, if it could...
So you, our comrades,
Only then in this war
You could reach the true happiness,
Comprehend in a whole.
In this feeling undoubtly
Is then our part,

of dust.
I - in village, where a cock cries
So early in morning in dew;
I - at highway, where the cars tear
Solid air by bodies anew;
Where one grass to other -
Thus the river spins flood plain, -
Where no any mother
Would not come anyway.

Let you count, the living one,
How many years passed
From the first mention at that time
Of a town like Stalingrad.
Th' battle-front was then burning,
And without the end,
As the hem on the body...
I was killed, whose now Rzhev?
Did they hold the
positions
There, in the Middle Don?
This hard month all on kitty
Was laid on by our host.
Was it real that close to autumn
There was Don behind him,
And the waters of Volga
Did he touched by his wheels?
No, that can't be the truth.
That the aim was unreachful for foe!
No, no! How could it be so?
How could be for dead any soothe?
There was only one such a pleasure
For the mute dead in their existence:
We had fallen for our motherland,
Our land had escaped consequentl
Our eyes had grown dark,


 Turned off th' fire in heart,
And on earth roll-call
There're not mentioned at all.
We are not able carrying
Our battle orders merited.
That's for you - living ones.
We have one joy to stand:
We were not vainly fighting
For our loved motherland.
Though our voice is inaudible, -
You should learn this, our brothers -
You should have stood as a hard wall,
Because of such a curse penalty
Of the dead, which's inevitable.

  This ferocious right
Is forever with us, -
It pertains only to us -
Such a bitter, hatd right.
In the summer of forty two
I was buried without tomb,
All that was furtherto
In the future was lost.
Death deprived of events,
Which are usual to you,
Let they have consonance
To belief, our views.

Brothers, may be you've lost
Not the Don-river, may be
You have died and for Moscow.
You in a trans-Volga steppe
Dug up hastily trenches,
You had reach Europe's ends
Rushing forward in battles.

  It's enough just to know,
That the last span of earth,
The last span on the road,
The war road long.
If you leave it, then your foot
You can't step no more
Backwards, that's the root,
That's the feature, from Which the fire up rose
Behind your backs,
The fire of forges
Of the Urals great.
And you turned away foes
Back to west.
May be, brothers, already
You've taken Smolensk?
And the enemy's smashed
On the other frontier?
May be you had reached yet
Even our state border?


 Perhaps so... Let the oath's word holy
Be accomplished to all!
-
Berlin was, as you know,
Under Moscow called.
Brothers, what had thus trambled
All the towers of alien land...
If we, died, could cry fairly
From the land, where'd laid!
If the volly of victory
Could awaken us, mute,
Deaf in endless eternity,
Could revive, if it could...
So you, our comrades,
Only then in this war
You could reach the true happiness,
Comprehend in a whole.
In this feeling undoubtly
Is then our part,