In my dream shine yellow lights And in my sleep Iím groaning: "Donít rush tonight, donít rush tonight - Wisdom comes with morning!" But come morning nothingís right, Itís still no roll in clover; You retch from hunger when you light Your fag or drink hungover. Hey, hey, hey, one time And one more time; Play it many many many many many times And one more time... The drinking dives have dark green baize; White napkins lie upon it. Itís paradise for tramps and knaves But I want to fly from it. The church is dark and deacons light Their incense till itís smothered - In the church too nothingís right, Nothingís right, my brothers. To the hill I turn and flee For somethingís made me wary; On it grows an alder tree, Below it spreads a cherry. If the slope were ivy-clad Or if there were another Sign or something Iíd be glad... Nothingís right, my brothers. One time And one more time; Play it many many many many many times And one more time... Along a field and stream I go; There is no light - Godís nowhere! And in the vast field cornflowers grow; The road is never over. Along the road there is a wood; Itís thick with wicked hags there And at the end thereís nothing good - A scaffold and an axe there. Somewhere horses dance in time; They float against their will now. Along the road nothingís right And at the end worse still now. In the church and in the dive - As profane as each other - Oh my brothers, nothingís right; Nothingís right my brothers! One time And one more time; Play it many many many many many times And one more time...
© Margaret & Stas Porokhnya. Translation, 2007