Despite a thousand soldiers and equipment,
reinforced by shipment after shipment,
some people will see it as past sheer madness,
to bring to livid Putin some gladness,
others as desperation in a great disaster,
as if to cross the river they would master.
They tried to force a battalion a river to cross,
over engineer pontoon bridges at a great loss,
tanks fired at own infantry to move,
no lack of trying they would approve
and into the river destroyed, dead or drown
a battalion and their equipment went down.
Rebuild trice the two bridges over the river fits
but shot, bombed, shelled and blown to bits
on both river-banks explosive hell did obliterate,
Russians from duty and not from hate,
they were forced to risk a crossing,
until of a battalion was not left a thing.
[Poet's note: seventy three Russian tanks and armoured vehicles were destroyed and about s thousand Russian soldiers died.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem