Wolves

People shed blood in the battles:
So many thousands die every day!
Feeling the smell of pray, nearby
The wolves are hunting about all night long.
The wolves' eyes are shining:
So much meat of people and horses!
This is the price of a single shooting!
This is the nightly harvest of batteries!
The adult wolf of a wolf pack,
Drunk with anticipation of a feast
Was paralyzed: He was riveted to the spot
By a groan coming right next to him.
It was a wounded soldier
Leaning against a birch-tree,
And the birch-tree was swaying above him
Like a mother lamenting over him.
Everything, feeling sorry, is crying all around,
And from all the stems and leaves
Hot the dewdrops settle in the grass,
But the innocent tears of flowers.
The old wolf stood for a while over the soldier,
Examined him and sniffed at him,
And for some reason looked into his eyes.
But didn't do anything to him.
At dawn the people came.
They see a wounded soldier hardly breathing.
But there is still hope
To fan this spark of life.
The people first drove into the body
Burning hot rods.
And then on the birch-tree, in a noose.
This weak life died.
People shed blood in the battles:
So many thousands die every day!
Feeling the smell of pray, nearby
The wolves are hunting about all night long.
The wolves! The packs of predatory
two-legged beasts
Are more terrifying and cruel.