the, What am I doing, able to do every.
I'm not drowning in ice, not was very thirsty,
And with a handful of brave men did not take Finnish pillbox,
And the storm did not save any ship.
Go to sleep, get up, eat lunch poor,
Even sitting on a rock beside the road,
И даже, having met a falling star
Ile gray clouds familiar ridge,
They smile suddenly go and where it is difficult to.
The more wonder at their strange fate
AND, used to it, I can not get used,
How to Her constant and vigilantly enemy ...
Then, out of two hundred million Soviet,
Living in the paternal goodness of laws,
Eh there anyone, who his bitterest hour
In my'd trade, - I ask you! —
And do not be angry with a smile tossed
my nickname, as the root of a poisonous.
O Lord! behold an easy feat my
And let the world come to pass home.
January 1941, Fountain House