Little hare

My sweet little hare is leaping on the battlefield, My hare is longing for home, Where they’re waiting for him, Always waiting. And beyond the ridge and the hill, a fox’s face — That destroys with its gaze. Sweet hare is leaping on the battlefield, Seeing no end or edge, Doesn’t see himself in the shadow, Doesn’t see his reflection in his own eyes. My little hare no longer leaps on the battlefield, They won’t wait for long. Maybe the fox’s face will remember, Maybe his family will remind him. Let’s start from the beginning… My sweet little hare is leaping on the battlefield, My hare is longing for home, Where they’re waiting for him, Always waiting. My hare is longing for home, Where they’re waiting for him, Always waiting. Bullet-scarred dugouts in the earth are like his tracks, Tracing my sweet little hare. My hare is longing for home, Where they’re waiting for him, Always waiting, Where they’re waiting — But won’t be waiting till the end…