Author of quotes: Igor Churdalev

May we see, as long as the yoke of snowstorms
to the ground fell,
as for the tiny life
drags through the era of fake and petty goals
through the hopelessness -
the bulk of the leaf ant.
And learn to live without looking back in the years
whether frozen, whether current off;
if eternal night is a time change
not sharing with the era neither sorrow nor delight,
not responsible for all the ant tribe
only being responsible for his very heavy piece.

And tremble the world. And falter life,
raised steadily as the block.
And we have step in the field of future battle,
sides - who with delight, some from fear.

Rootless, Galda the whole crowd,
but apart - sharing by flocks or caste
slid over the surface of things,
neslie under a porous crust,
in the den, in the permafrost, in the thick of the night
polasa a vanished country
Empire lost almost
whimpering in her sleep, licking his wounds.

Not hearty eating you? If not sweet drink?
Il songs we impoverished?
Why about the old dugout singing,
which in eyes did not see?
If we are not eloquent, if we are not smart,
beautiful and well dressed?
It was not cold we suffered, we do not.
And bullets, we are not affected.