Hey, driver, take me to my Butyrka home, Hurry, to where the prisonís fixed! Youíre too late, buddy, late by a few years, This prison has been knocked down for its bricks. Thatís too bad, because early this morning, I figured I should visit my old lair... Oh, well, driver, then take me to the Taganka, After all, Iíd also done time there. They knocked down the old Taganka, Wiped the whole damn thing right off the map! Well, then, driver, turn this car around, Empty-handed, we can head back. No, wait, driver, you got a light? Or better, letís take a shot as quickly as we can, Letís drink to Russia having no more prisons, That no more camps will ever scar this land.
© Andrew Glikin-Gusinsky. Translation, 2007