The Small Light  In 1941 after Mikhail Isakovsky

A girl to the war mortal position

Saw off the soldier to march,

In the dark night said goodbyes

On the steps of the porch.

And while behind the dense fog

The fellow could see in turning,

On the small window maidenlike

A light was brightly  burning.

The boy was met by a glorious

Front-line family,  there was  shared.

Comrades were very familar,

Friends were realy everywhere.

But he could not forget at all

The quiet familiar street:

— Where are you, my dear girl, fairly?

Where are you, my light  lit?

And a distant she only friend

Sends the boy a letter short,

That her maiden truly love

Will  not ever  be mort;

Everything, that was then  wished,

Will come true in its time,

The golden light will not   vanish of

And go out before time.

And it is so spacious and joyful

In the soul of the brave fighter

From such a short good sincere,

From her soulful letter.

And the hated baleful enemy

The boy beats firmly so -

Just for the Soviet Motherland,

For the native light also.