I was so sincere Being calm and unruffled, But some jerk would appear - And I’d kick up a scuffle. In my songs there are all kinds of sinners: Thieves and drunkards and hoods. What a shame! No poster of popular singers Carries my half-prohibited name. But I don’t regret it... I was so sincere In my wish to be trusted But some jerk would appear And with him I’d get plastered. All my life I was led and directed By the faith in my people and land, But my monument won’t be erected In some square or park in the end. But I don’t regret it... Though I was sincre Bringing my life to reason, Cops would always appear Sending me back to prison. My tough life is a life of a scapegrace, But at least it is honest and bold. Yet, I’m sure that no newspapers Will announce my death to the world. But I don’t regret it...         I am tortured and shattered and splinted By my weird, ridiculous fate. And my profile will never be minted On the coins as the emblem of State! But I don’t regret it...        
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2001
Edited by Robert Titterton