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| Versione inglese di Natalie Golightly (2000)
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| ABOUT A DEAD FRIEND | DIDN'T RETURN FROM THE ACTION |
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| Why is everything wrong? - Everything just is like always: | Why is everything wrong? It goes like every day: |
| The same sky, once again it’s blue, | The same sky - blue again in complexion, |
| The same forest, the same air, and the very same water, | The same wood, the same air, the water such stay... |
| Only he didn’t return from the battle. | But he didn’t return from the action. |
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| Now I can’t understand, which one of us was right | Still I can’t comprehend who was right then in our |
| In those sleepless, restless arguments of ours. | Never-ending disputes to distraction. |
| I’m only now getting enough rest, | I felt need of him being at hand only now - |
| Since he didn’t return from the battle. | When he didn’t return from the action. |
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| He shut up at the wrong times and often sang the wrong lines, | He did not speak in place and broke times in a song, |
| He was always talking about something different, | Any subject of talks he could turn, |
| He didn’t let me sleep, he got up with the dawn, | He disturbed me asleep, he got up with the dawn - |
| But yesterday he didn’t return from the battle. | While yesterday - didn’t return. |
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| What’s so empty now - I’m not talking about that, | Has the emptiness come? S’not the point complete: |
| All at once I noticed that we were a pair! | Two is closer than one to perfection... |
| For me it was if the wind blew out the fire, | With a wind was blown out my fire that lit |
| When he didn’t return from the battle. | When he didn’t return from the action. |
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| Now spring has run off, as if from captivity | It’s just slipped like a captive from prison to fly |
| By mistake I yelled at him: | That mistakenly calling I turn: |
| Friend, put out the cigarette! - But in answer - silence | "Friend, reserve a smoke for me!" - in reply - no reply... |
| Yesterday he didn’t return from the battle. | For he, yesterday, didn’t return. |
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| Our dead don’t leave us when we are in trouble, | Our dead men will never desert us in trouble, |
| Our fallen are like sentries. | Our lost men are sentries of ours... |
| The sky is reflected in the forest, as if in water, | Woods reflect heaven so as the water to double, - |
| And the trees now stand in blue. | And the trees stand blue-looking in colours. |
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| There was plenty of room in the foxhole, | Enough space for us in the dug-out we had, |
| Time there slowly passed for both of us. | And the world round two of us turned... |
| Everything now is just for one man... Though it seems to me, | Now all’s left to one, but it seems to me that - |
| That it was I who didn’t return from the battle. | It’s my very self who’s not returned. |
