Iím feeling shivery again. My heart Is rumbling like a boulder in a barrel: A vicious rogue is living in my blood, With horny, hairy hands of a big scoundrel. When, noticing my anguish, people say Reproachfully: "Heíll take to drinking", I cannot get along with him. No way. He breathes, in my stead, while I am shrinking. Heís not my double nor another me, - No use to give a stupid explanation. He is my flesh and blood. How can it be? It is beyond all imagination. Heís waiting till I finish up my twine, When he can use my hand to write the summery, And I become a prudent, ruthless swine Betraying everybody, all and sundry. I do not want to look for an excuse, My life may fade, go past, dissolve or harden; But I will not excuse myself when, cutting loose, He gets a hold on me, all of a sudden. But I will summon all my power and strength, This time he wonít elude and dodge it: Iíll swallow poison, let him gorge it And turn to dust, - Iíve cheated him at length!
© Alec Vagapov. Translation, 1999