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# The One That Didn't Shoot -- Translation Visotsky
- URL: https://www.hawkword.com/poetry/the-one-that-didnt-shoot----translation-visotsky/
- Published: 2022-08-10T12:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2022-08-10T12:00:00.000Z
- Description: I have no wish to snow you, that doesn't hit the spot but on one morning, oh, yeah, was shot up by my squad what did I do to warrant the folly that befell? the truth is not abhorrent - just not allowed to tell
- Author: A. Gee
- Tags: Poetry, Allpoetry Import, #Import 2026-04-25 19:56

I have no wish to snow you, that doesn't hit the spot  
but on one morning, oh, yeah, was shot up by my squad  
what did I do to warrant the folly that befell?  
the truth is not abhorrent - just not allowed to tell

My squad commander almost saved my ass  
but someone was insisting: execute  
and as I said the squad did fire en masse  
but there was one, just one that didn't shoot

my troubled fate, disruptive, has long been bent askew  
I got myself a captive, but failed to bring him to  
and Commissar Suetin, he's not one to relent  
well, he began inventin', and penciled his intent.

He dragged out what he found to light of day.  
All papered and assembled for his suit.  
And there was nothing, nobody could say.  
Well there was one, the one that didn't shoot.

Hand fell, commanding "Fire", oh, what a stupid call,  
The shots sent to expire and free me from my soul,  
but then I hear: he's breathing, go, bring him to the ward.  
Can't double execute him, there is no such accord.

The doctor kept on clucking with his tongue,  
bewildered, pulling bullets by their root.  
And feverish, delirious, high strung  
I blabbered with the one that didn't shoot.

My wounds were healing, licked them, so like a dog, it seemed.  
The hospitals, I'm feeling, held me in high esteem.  
The female staff, enamored, kept saying that I'm hot.  
“Hey, you, you body armored, come here and take your shot."

Our regiment was hero-ing in Krim.  
and I kept sending glucose there by foot.  
For what? So it'll be easier for him  
For whom? Well, for the one that didn't shoot.

I drank tea mixed with spirits, as circumstance permits.  
And there's no need to fear it, survived with all my wits.  
Got me my own battalion, commander said: assault,  
and if you didn't die yet, well that is your own fault.

And I was happy, but collapsed and cried.  
A German sniper, whispering "Kaput"  
I blasphemed, wailing, that's the day I died...  
He killed him, killed the one that didn't shoot.