Он не вернулся из боя [On ne vernulsya iz boya] [English translation]

Why is everything wrong? The cerulean blue…

Skies still look just the same, but I’m baffled.

Same old water and air, the familiar hue,

Yet he failed to come back from the battle.

It’s too late to decide who was going to win

In our arguments running past bedtime.

Only now have I started to truly miss him,

When he failed to come back from the battle.

He was silent at times, he would sing out of tune,

He would often chit-chat or would prattle.

Always up before dawn, always leaving too soon,

But last night he got killed in the battle.

Yes, it’s empty inside and it’s tough to explain,

I just noticed, we stood there together.

But it felt like wind gusts have extinguished the flame,

When he failed to come back from the battle.

Spring is bursting again, pushing winter off track,

So today, out of habit, I've blurted:

“Friend, will you share a smoke?” - Only silence came back,

Since last night he got killed in the battle.

In the time of distress, those who’re dead will not leave,

Fallen friends will protect us like wardens.

Skies reflect in the woods, swapping water with leaves,

And cerulean trees stand like curtains.

We had plenty of room in the hut where we lived,

For us both life events would unravel.

Now it’s only myself, but today I can feel,

It was me who was left in the battle.