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Konstantin Simonov (1915—1979) - Russian and Soviet author, war correspondent during WWII and well-known war poet. Poem of Konstantin Simonov “Kill him“ reads Mikhail Tsariov - a folk artist of the USSR (1903—1987). Complete English text in a version of poem from 1942 year: Constantine Simonov - KILL HIM If your house means a thing to you Where you first dreamed your Russian dreams In your swinging cradle, afloat Beneath the log ceiling beams. If your house means a thing to you With its stove, corners, walls and floors Worn smooth by the footsteps of three Generations of ancestors. If your small garden means a thing: With its May blooms and bees humming low, With its table your grandfather built Neath the linden - a century ago. If you don't want a German to tread The floor in your house and chance To sit in your ancestors' place And destroy your yard's trees and plants If your mother is dear to you And the breast that gave you suck Which hasn't had milk for years But is now where you put your cheek; If you cannot stand the thought Of a German's doing her harm. Beating her furrowed face With her braids wound round his arm. And those hands which carried you To your cradle washing instead A German's dirty clothes Or making him his bed . [763] [If you haven't forgotten your father Who tossed you and teased your toes, Who was a good soldier, who vanished In the high Carpathian snows, Who died for your motherland's fate, For each Don and each Volga wave, If you don't want him in his sleeping To turn over in his grave, When a German tears his soldier picture With crosses from its place And before your own mother's eyes Stamps hobnailed boots on his face.] If you don't want to give away Her you walked with and didn't touch, Her you didn't dare even to kiss For a long time - you loved her so much, And the Germans cornering her And taking her alive by force, Crucifying her - three of them Naked, on the floor; with coarse Moans, hate, and blood, - Those dogs taking advantage of All you sacredly preserved With your strong, male love. If you don't want to give away To a German with his black gun Your house, your mother, your wife All that's yours as a native son No: No one will save your land If you don't save it from the worst. No: No one will kill this foe, If you don't kill him first. And until you have killed him, don't Talk about your love - and Call the house where you lived your home Or the land where you grew up your land. [765] If your brother killed a German, If your neighbor killed one too, It's your brother's and neighbor's vengeance, And it's no revenge for you. You can't sit behind another Letting him fire your shot. If your brother kills a German, Hes a soldier; you are not. So kill that German so he Will lie on the ground's backbone, So the funeral wailing will be In his house, not in your own. He wanted it so It's his guilt Let his house burn up, and his life. Let his woman become a widow; Don't let it be your wife. Don't let your mother tire from tears; Let the one who bore him bear the pain. Don't let it be yours, but his Family who will wait in vain. So kill at least one of them And as soon as you can. Still Each one you chance to see! Kill him! Kill him! Kill! July 1942. Constantine Mikhailovich Simonov. Kill Him // Modern Russian Poetry: An Anthology with Verse Translations. Edited and with an Introduction by Vladimir Markov and Merrill Sparks. The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1967 - 842 p. - P. 761, 763, 765.
