THE KEY TO THEIR HEARTS
By habitual measurements do not idly Aseasure Those who are shaken by the storms of war; He for whom Death 's become a daily neighbour Sees many things he never saw before.
We have become more critical, more exacting, War's tribulations have learned to know. All people for us now, all things, all actions, Are lit by Battle's fitful flickering glow.
We've learned to see more clearly, more profoundly, After this year's commotion and collapse.
How greedily in conversation's flow Our sharpened ears the jar of falseness catch!
When snows lay crimsoned with our brothers' blood All feigning and dissembling seemed absurd: Like a dead leaf at autumn, swiftly fell The dried husk of the ornamental word.
A soldier's heart is rigorous and severe, Not by a spate of words can it be swayed ; We've grown more taciturn: in brief half-words Our conversations at the front are made.
Placed on the threshold of immense events, Trusting our country's future boundlessly, Only the word that's honest, simple, true, Will by our soldier-hearts accepted be.
And if you too would rally to our flag, Come join us at our fire ; sit not apart. He who the soldier's joys and sorrows shares Will find the key that fits the soldier's heart.
ALEXEI SURKOV (1942).
(Translated from the Russian by Alan Moray Williams)
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