Ivan Potiomkin - poetry translation

***
“And they really don’t know whether they’re still alive or killed.”
Nathan Alterman

Kids are at the gate,
Armed to the tooth,
Partially toothless.
“Move along, man, quickly!”
… Slowly, slowly…
“Hurry up, man! We’ll shoot!”
… Slowly, slowly…
“Man, stop! You’re killed!”
… Slowly, slowly…
… Being killed a long time ago…

P.S.

We live at a reachable distance from war,
Wishfully hoping
That the distance says behind,
As far as possible,
Somewhere on the border of history and myth.

****
During the time for do or die
Say your “Good morning!” passing by…
“…and to a thief?”
“And to a thief.
Just scan him thoroughly. I bet
It shall speed up his own regret.”

***
So he went to look for
The beginning of his fate.
Though forgot about doing this slowly,
Got tired, and sat down by the wayside.
And then someone whispered something paradoxical:
“How about to seek the ending of the fate?”
He stood up,
Stood on his tiptoes.
He observes
a boy who rolls towards him
a triple-of-own-size star.