Sketches about the war...
... Knock-knock, knock-knock, the ax is chopping diligently,.
The warts on my hands are as hard as paving stones.
The saboteurs are again building the bridge in the crossing.
So that the equipment can reach the shore, to the other.
Shot-shot, the saw went into the buffer like it was butter.
With sharp teeth, clearing your way.
Knock, knock, and the ringing hammer hit the hat,.
He bent a stubborn and heavy nail.
The ward has been here since morning, only nine left.
sergeant and eight sons.
Come on, hurry up!... Drag the board harder.
Here, hold it a little, and I'll kill you.
My gymnast is wet from sweat.
The collar opens up to the shoulder.
and two stripes for a lower wound,.
Yes, gray and tired eyes.
They have been waiting for an hour in silence.
Please smoke tobacco in the newspaper.
They are not in a hurry, just not satisfied.
The horses in the sleigh fall.
They float down the river like ships under sail.
Bark from logs, shavings and leaves.
And it echoes over the water, thump-thump, and again echoes,
Dedicated voice and carrying ax by E. Ziriansky.