Blessed are the ones that left your daughters, Earth,
To fight in wartime battle and to run,
Blessed are the ones that having never tried
Comfort went to the fields Elysian.
Thus grows the laurel - writer of the years,
Heater of battle, sober, with harsh leaves.
I will never exchange for bitter fate of love
The friendship's over-the-clouds cliffs.
Блаженны дочерей твоих, Земля,
Бросавшие для боя и для бега.
Блаженны в Елисейские поля
Вступившие, не обольстившись негой.
Так лавр растёт, — жестоколист и трезв,
Лавр-летописец, горячитель боя.
— Содружества заоблачный отвес
Не променяю на юдоль любови.
____
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