Женя, мой старший брат, написал стихи на смерть...

Eugene, my elder brother, wrote poems on the death of Gorshenev.

Don't understand the pain of loss
What do you want a man? ...
His shield ... His plate ...
And he was somewhere, but he died,
And what else has become ...
And on his grave is a white mushroom ...
And there are few graves ...
He’d be erected,
But alas, the grave diggers have no ideas,
Where to put such a miracle.
In general, there was a man
But alas, he will no longer be ...