Nikolay Grebnev

Our grandfathers writ in former days
On their daggers and with their daggers,
Just the same that I, with help of pens,
Try to say with week words in the present.

On their ruffle horses, they got ride
Into battles, leaving their dears, 
And they writ, on stones with their blood,
What I fail to write with my ink here. 


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, June, 2001