“Rubakha” in blood and torn,
An unfinished bottle in his hands,
To die or to live — «vsyo ravno»,
The “chest” in medals,
The head in the bushes.

And how do you fight such a one,
Seeing a human in him?
You’ll feel yourself at the slaughterhouse –
As if you’re grinding meat,
Shooting and butchering livestock.

You have to, for a time,
Turn beast yourself as well.
Willingly or by force,
Overcoming exhaustion,
Lock the bolts
Of the border,
To make it home.