By Igor Mikheev

We could scarcely imagine.

Our in the yard it was golden autumn.

They were putting on the musical ‘Nord-Ost’ in the capital.

It all was like a splendid dream in childhood.

She was loved, and loved,

While up ahead was the gleaming distance.

It seemed that all hardships and passed by,

Only a bright grief remained.

And suddenly, as if the heavens opened wide.

That, which no one expected, happened.

Wonders happened on the stage,

And terrorists appeared in the hall.

All at once you found yourself in a war,

Where the soldier does not choose to fight.

He must do his duty everywhere,

Even though he often must die.

And you fell, no fault of ours in this,

That your life was abbreviated.

No all are given to leave their mark in life,

So that they are remembered forever.

You died, but the memory of you

We will keep, like we preserve rivers,

So that in spite of your tragic fate

You will remain alive for us forever.

*  *  *

Like a holy martyr, she is now in paradise,

And I pray for her as best I know how.

I beg, oh Lord, that your hear my prayer,

I will not dare worry you anymore.

October 2002.

Our minds are ice-bound by the satanic cold.

Earth and woman are made gray from grief,

And the heart chokes from melancholy.

All has turned to ice with your departure.

The beauty of nature suddenly grows dim,

As if the heavenly gate has closed.

And life becomes pointlessly empty.

It gets darker.  The sun has set.

‘Clear Ponds’ becomes sadder,

While we, your friends, are orphaned.

Much water has flowed since then,

But we have still not been able to rid ourselves of the pain in our souls.

October 26th, 2004

Under your portrait stands a vase of flowers.

It means that they love you as ever before.

We dream of meeting you again,

In a hope that is permanently sad.

Here your portrait smiles at us from the wall.

Your radiant sight warms our souls.

It is as if you left only a little while ago on business

In your light and quick walk.

We look at you, nothing fades away,

In adoration, gentle and passionate.

We remember you, and pray,

And admire again your beautiful countenance.

Let the years pass, never will we forget

The simple deeds of your life,

While the granite over your grave protects forever

A kind image, and young features.

October 26th, 2005