You left our on a flighty whim Seeing you again - neither fact nor law. I am eastbound now and my prospects - grim. Iíll work the goldmines of Bodaibo. Youíll not cry for me, neither will you wait. To my family, youíll grow cold. I couldnít care less. Have neither love nor hate. For my country I will mine gold. All is quiet now. Wheels no longer tap. Train tracks have come to an end. My soul wants to cry, but my tears dried up. Seven years this "drought"íll be kept. That you will not wait, I couldnít care less. For my wretched life, donít worry much! Just remember this: may your life be blessed Not to meet up with me and my righteous grudge. I will serve my time. No denying that. I will be a free bird at last! But, while I am HERE on a cold flat bed, I will try to FORget the past. Forests - endless sea, waves of greenery. Want to howl at the moon like a wretch! At my back - seven thousand kilometers And ahead - a seven-year stretch.
© Eugene Derbarmdiker. Translation, 2006