R.Rozhdestvensky, Yes, Boys! - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

Yes, Boys!
By Robert Rozhdestvensky

We are - guilty.
We are guilty much:
Not we
were falling with the landing troop
down to the dark.
And in that -
trampled by war -
autumn
we were not on front,
but in rear.
We were not shivering from fear
on hearing the night knock.
Did not see
nor captivity,
nor prison!
We are guilty,
that we were late to be born.
We ask pardon:
we are guilty.
But nowadays
our destinies
also began.
The first step is done -
the words are said.
We are started -
sometimes firmly,
sometimes in draft.
As the songs,
as the april grass...
We are entering life.
We despise bleating.

But suddenly I listen to the talk about
the modern generation, rising up.
Inopportunely... Unclear...
Not worth to be...
And somebody -
in a fussy and quick-tempered manner, -
inflamed by an incomprehensible rage,
is crying
into our faces,
pointing his finger:
'No, boys! '
Say, what is the matter
of his speech?
What about?
We are needless of your indulgence!
What about?
And I glance over them:
the builders,
the poets,
the cosmonauts -
all that magnificent my boys.
Not we are - to grumble,
Not we are - to store our insults:
But in the name
of all the earth:
'Yes, boys! '
Who has come
from the cosmic orbits
into the heroes!
Yes, boys,
the merry investigators,
got out of cold hands:
I'm telling that not vainly,
And I'm ready to tell that
in all the ways:
Yes, boys in the dry colds of Bratsk!
Yes, boys, in sovhozes
of Kulunda!
* sovhos - abbreviation of 'sovmestnoe khozyaistvo', i.e. the agricultural co-operative in the period of soviet collectivization)
Yes,
the impudently
clever
boys in spectacles -
the future
of an unprecendented sciences!
Yes, boys,
in hard studying,
fettered
with a severity
of shields.
The fops?
All right.
The matter
is not in that fops.
And our generation -
is not such as they are.
Let somebody cries
about naghty children
in the curling
artificial smoke
the valiant speculators
on ideas,
trained to nothing.
Andh we are laughing
at the awkward
prophets.
We can answer them wholly.
In all of us the revolution is boiling.
Unique.
True.
The only one.
Yes, boys!
Stand nearby
over the weakness
of the invented bustle.
Yes, boys!
Work, dream,
make mistakes, -
To the hell!
Yes, boys,
we are going to the uneven road!
Fight
with a lie!
Stand on your base!
Because you will never mistake
in the main thing.
In the banner, under which we are living!

1963