A story about hidden weapon

"A story about hidden weapon"
(written by K. Simonov, translated by V. Eskina)

Five days on end they got for food
The salted cod alone.
The prison cook cut out for them
The largest bits of fish,
For breakfast, dinner, supper, lunch,
Without a single bone –
A greasy heavy pinkish bit
Of throughout salted fish.
He supervisor swore by God
That, in compare to his squad,
“Red prisoners were fed up
As much as no one thought.
And if they bet they’ll die of thirst –
That’s stuff and nonsense. At the most –
Just let them watch it raining
Out of the window jaws”.
They lay delirious on the floor
In solitary cells,
Alone and silent as they were
And hard and cold as stone.
To get to know what’s hidden back,
The guard tried hard to quell
This silent mutiny of theirs,
Their acting on their own.
To make them give a vital clue
The guard would beat them black and blue,
Rotating belts and batons
On their tormented backs –
The memory came back, but still
They wouldn’t say against their will.
The cache with hidden weapon
Stayed off the beaten track.
Once taken by the ruthless guard,
The elder left the house.
He tried to catch some drops of rain
While walking pass he yard.
The drops were way too small and fine
To reach his droughty mouth,
And fierce wind dried up them all
Before they touched his heart.
They pushed him face down on the floor,
Constantly asking, yes or no –
In supervisor’s office.
What made him petrify in awe?
A jug of water that he saw
Right on the table surface.
Behind the icy wall of glass
Well covered up with steam
He licked his chapped and droughty lips,
He barely uttered: “Aye,
I’ve just recalled: it’s buried deep
Under the soggy earth.
But I can’t find this secret cache
Under the lowering sky”
(The water jangling on his nerves
With its tremendous force).
The questioning came to a close.
The glass in supervisor’s paws
Just touched the prisoner’s mouth
And splashed down on the floor.
“A friend of yours is coming soon,
And we’ll have found till afternoon
The cache with hidden weapon.
He’ll tell me even more!”
The supervisor left. The door
Creaked loud behind his back,
The younger prisoner came in,
Back swollen like a hunch.
He groaned and leant against the wall,
His bones let out a crack.
He whispered: “I can’t bare it, man,
They’ll beat me to the punch!
I’ll soon give in, I won’t stand still,
I will surrender to their will.
I know that in the hangar,
In darkness, in the vault…”
“Shut up!”- “I will stand mute so far!”
The door got open wide and jarred,
The supervisor came in
And asked: “Who’ll tell me all?”
The elder, grimace on his face,
Irreparably said:
“Damn, damn the weapon! Anyway,
We’re finished, done and dead.
I’ll give the clues, but first of all,
Please, take away my friend.
He is the odd man out. Besides,
His memory is bad”.
The soldiers tore him off the ground
And took away without a sound,
Still beating him with elbows
For his tremendous yell.
He didn’t understand a thing,
He only could shout out and blink.
He knew it all, for sure:
They’ll beat his every cell.
“He’s yelling”, - marked the elder one,
And, getting slightly blue,
For all the clues he asked the guard
Three prizes for himself:
A glass of water – number one,
And freedom – number two.
Eternal silence of his friend –
That was his needed pelf.
The supervisor answered: “Well,
He won’t get out of his cell,
I give my word, I swear,
Tomorrow, by day’s end…”
“No, old man, not tomorrow – now
I’m gonna tell you, where and how,
To make it really fair,
I need to see it at first hand”.
The supervisor called the guard
As soon as just he could:
“Bring out the prisoner 7 in
The isolation ward.
In case he tries to run away –
Don’t hesitate to shoot.
But let me watch his certain death
Right on the prison yard”.
The supervisor wound up
And asked the prisoner: “What is up?”
The elder shook the grating
With his exhausted hand.
The prison yard looked bare and dull,
The clouds reminding of a skull,
The younger one was walking
Unchained from end to end.
The guard that followed 5 steps back
Raised up their loaded guns.
He walked without looking back.
A dreadful silence fell.
A shot rang out. The elder turned
Aside the bloody sun.
“You want to find the weapons’ cache,
My omnipresent pal?
We hid it from the people’s eyes
In total darkness, in disguise,
For good, to keep it secret,
We covered it away.
The friend of mine could give us in
But I have saved him from this sin.
He’s dead, he won’t surrender.
I live and I won’t say!”


April 22, 2019