I do not piss your brain off –
It’s not the same factory:
I was shot in the morning
A whole platoon of rifles.
For what this wicked,
An absurd path, –
Not that I do not know, –
You can not tell.

My commander almost saved me,
But someone insisted on shooting –
And the platoon fulfilled the order perfectly.
But there was one who did not shoot.

My fate is dashing
Long ago it was contraindicated.
Once a language I
Dobyl, but did not report,
And the strange type of Suetin –
Our tireless! –
Even then I noticed
And he took a pencil.
He dragged into the light and dragged
The pinned, sewn-on material –
Nobody could do anything …
No! Could one who did not shoot.

The hand fell into the abyss
With a stupid sound: “Pli!” –
And the volley gave me a pass
To the other side of the earth.
But … I hear: “Alive, an infection!
Drag to the medical battalion –
Shoot twice
Charters are not ordered! ”

The doctor kept clucking his tongue till morning
And, amazed, he removed the bullets.
And I deliriously talked secretly
With that kid who did not shoot.

I wound like a dog,
Lysala almost a year.
In hospitals, however,
He came in great honor –
He walked in love with me,
All weak female sex:
“Hey, you! Unopened!
Come on to the injection! ”
Our battalion was a hero in the Crimea,
And I sent glucose there,
So it was sweeter to fight him –
Him, the one who did not shoot.

I drank a chicken from a saucer,
With spirtikom happened.
I did not have to bend,
And I was finishing it.
In his regiment determined –
“Fight! Said the battalion commander.
And that did not finish the shot –
So I, my brother, even happy. ”

I, too, would be happy, yes, sitting at the stump,
I howled the beluga and cursed fate:
The German sniper shot me,
Killing the one who did not shoot.