Where was I last night? I remember the street And the wallpaper - patterns of flowers I know Katy was there, and her friend I did meet I made out with both in the shower Since this day begun They’ve been telling me Of the things I have done Last night way past three Said I swore at a nun Said I fired my gun Dancing naked I screamed "I’m a general’s son!" Then I tore open my shirt, and pounded my chest Speaking harsh and accusing words And the guests could not get one minute of rest Between my endless cycles of chords And then I said "It is late Time to turn up the pase" Started smashing the plates Grabbed the new crystal vase Spun around and threw It out to the street And watched as it flew At the concrete Half the night they kept quiet, but then thought of a plan - I drove them right to the end of patience - Jumped at me together, started tying my hands Before I tore down the house’s foundations One spat at my eyes One poured booze down my throat And some dancing guy Kicked like a goat And seeing me on the ground Amidst the debree The young widow frowned As she looked at me                         Where was I last night? I can’t find it today I just remember these patterns of flowers But my broken face, it is here to stay No one shall forget these last hours If this story is true Even if half is a lie Then all I can do Is lie down and die But the young widow smiled And pardoned my sin Despite my lifestyle Asked me to move in
© Ilya Yakubovich. Translation, 2006