YOU THINK

           I'LL COME BACK

           WEARY AND SPENT,

            OBSESSED WITH THE HORRORS OF WAR,

            EAGER TO TELL

            &nb sp;             OF THE BURNING HELL,

            &nb sp;              OF DIRT AND PAIN AND GORE.

            THAT I WILL SPEAK,

             AS IF IT WERE MY RIGHT,

             OF THAT WAXING LIFE.

             BUT YOU YOURSELF ONE SHUTTERED NIGHT

            &nb sp; THE VOLGA SWAM TO LIFE.

            &nb sp; YOU HAD YOUR SHARE

            &nb sp;  OF EVIL DAYS,

            &nb sp;  FOR WORDS WHAT DO YOU CARE!

     YOU  THINK

      AMIDST THE COMFORTS OF HOME

      LIKE A LOST SOUL I'LL ROAM:

            &nb sp; YOU'LL MAKE A BED-

            &nb sp;  I'LL THOSE ON THE FLOOR,

            &nb sp;  A TABLE YOU'LL SET-

            &nb sp;  I'LL EAT BY THE DOOR,

            &nb sp;  I'LL CREEP TO THE GATE AND DIG A TRENCH.

            &nb sp;  AT NIGHT,OF YOU UNAWARE,

            &nb sp;   I'LL JUMP AND SHOUT,MY FISTS CLENCHED,

            &nb sp;   "STOP OR I SHOOT!WHO GOES THERE?"

            &nb sp;    NO!

            &nb sp;    NONE OF THIS SHALL EVER BE!

            &nb sp;    THE GORY STORY IS TOLD.

            &nb sp;     WE'LL COME HIS HEARTS UNCALLOUSED AND FREE,

            &nb sp;      GROWN OLDER NOT GROWN COLD.

            &nb sp;      WE SHALL NOT RETURN

            &nb sp;                 BITTER AND SPENT.

            &nb sp;       FOR THEN-WHY RETURN AT ALL!

            &nb sp;       WE'LL COME TO BUILD,TO MEND ALL RENTS,

            &nb sp;       BEFORE NO JOB OF WORK WE'LL STALL!

            &nb sp;       TO PAY MY DEBT

            &nb sp;        OF LOVE AND CARE

            &nb sp;        TO YOU THROUG HELL I'VE SPED.

            &nb sp;        WHAT I'VE BORE,I HAD TO BEAR.

            &nb sp;         I'VE DONE NO FAVOURS WHATSOEVER.

            &nb sp;         AND NOW NO GUN,

            &nb sp;         BUT A PEN I'LL HOLD

            &nb sp;         TO WRITE A POEM OF LOVE,

            &nb sp;         I'LL WORK AT A MILL,

            &nb sp;         I'LL SLEEP IN BED,

            &nb sp;         WITH PEACEFUL SKIES ABOVE.

            &nb sp;         NO CHOICE WE HAD OF TAKE OR LEAVE,

            &nb sp;         HARDLY ANY CHOICE AT ALL...

            &nb sp;          YET BETTER TO COME

            &nb sp;                   WITH AN EMPTY SLEEVE

            &nb sp;          THAN WITH AN EMPTY SOUL!

            &nb sp;                         &nb sp;       BY MIKHAIL LUKONIN/RUSSIA