In my dream some yellow light Blinds me and I’m groaning: “Get away, a painful night! Come, a sunny morning!” But the morning is an ill, Wrong and boring comer... You just smoke or drink some swill On an empty stomach. Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again... Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again... Jerks and bums in cheap saloons Feast for no reason... It’s a paradise for goons But for me - a prison! Incense in the church they burn - Stench like from a dustbin... No, the church is also wrong, Not the way it must be! Wheezing, up the hill I lurch, I am tired and harried... On the top there is a birch, Way below - a cherry... Wish the hill were ivy-twined, Then I’d be in clover; Wish another joy I’d find - But it’s wrong all over! Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again... Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again... I keep running on and on Through the field with daisies... Light is black and God is gone, And my road mazes. Now it goes through the wood, Hags collect their taxes, In the end of it you could See the block with axes! Horses in a sluggish mode, Dance with no desire... All is wrong along the road, But the end is dire! Neither church, nor a saloon - Nothing’s, nothing’s holy... All is wrong under the moon, Wrong and quite appalling! Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again... Once again, yes, once again, Many, many times again...
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2001
Edited by Robert Titterton