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Poetry

[The whole soldier doesn’t suffer]

By Lyudmyla Khersonska
Translated from Russian by Katherine E. Young

The whole soldier doesn’t suffer—
it’s just the legs, the arms,
just blowing snow,
just meager rain.
The whole soldier shrugs off hurt—
it’s just missile systems “Hail” and “Beech,”
just bullets on the wing,
just happiness ahead.
Just meteorological pogroms,
geo-Herostratos wannabes,
just the girl with the pointer
poking the map in the stomach.
Just thunder, lightning,
just dreadful losses,
just the day with a dented helmet,
just God, who doesn’t protect.

© Lyudmyla Khersonska. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2016 by Katherine E. Young. All rights reserved. 

English Russian

The whole soldier doesn’t suffer—
it’s just the legs, the arms,
just blowing snow,
just meager rain.
The whole soldier shrugs off hurt—
it’s just missile systems “Hail” and “Beech,”
just bullets on the wing,
just happiness ahead.
Just meteorological pogroms,
geo-Herostratos wannabes,
just the girl with the pointer
poking the map in the stomach.
Just thunder, lightning,
just dreadful losses,
just the day with a dented helmet,
just God, who doesn’t protect.

© Lyudmyla Khersonska. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2016 by Katherine E. Young. All rights reserved. 

[Весь солдат болеть не станет—]

Весь солдат болеть не станет—
только ноги, только руки,
только сильные метели,
только бедные дожди.
Весь солдат болеть устанет—
только грады, только буки,
только дуры налетели,
только радость впереди.
Только метеопогромы,
только гео-геростраты,
только девушка с указкой
тычет в карту как в живот.
Только молнии и громы,
только страшные утраты,
только день с пробитой каской,
только Бог не бережёт.

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