Perhaps the years go by, no letters come,
Or any news of me.
My every footprint covered with blind earth,
My tracks grass-grown and nothing left to see.
Perhaps - in black I'll visit you in dreams,
Walk in abruptly, sorrowfully keep tryst;
Or Time's impassive billows will erase
That moment long ago, our parting kiss.
So great a burden, waiting, dreadful wait,
So wearing, draining every thought,
So you’re convinced at last: “He is no more” -
As if it were a sentence, and your lot.
Your love will pass, not mine. But then, it’s all
I have: so strong, there’s nothing else perhaps.
Unlooked for, yet the day will come on which
Your memory of me must surely lapse.
And only then, that very moment when
All thoughts of me are emptied from your mind.
Perhaps that very moment Death will win,
And rob me so that no way back I find.
So long as you still wailed, I was strong -
Death missed me on the battle-field:
Your love a truly magic talisman,
In each campaign it acted as my shield.
I, wounded, fell. But still cried: “Victory!”
I battle, on my vows I brought no shame.
You see, if I came back defeated, you
Might not say "Thank you” to me for the same.
A soldier's road in tortuous, takes him far;
But do not let your love or hopes fall slack:
Through fire and water I can go, your love
My pledge of safety that... I shall come back.
сентября 1943