I was good in face and in height, Thanks to my mother and father, Was good in relations with others - Not forced them, nor urged either. Was not bending my back - was straight and lean, And through my moustache never breathed, I lived as lived, My head with my hands trying to hold and keep. But there was also a denunciation and lie - May be a five hundred of some men, Yet no one of our ones; And there was a room with a table "Take care of time". They are there all without salt, Randomly they put there a stamp on the envelope - And sent it to the suburbs of Mozhaisk. Then - the freedom, then - to home With a seven years behind the back - And that years hang on me - You canít throw or sell them. But Iíve got acquainted with the chief once, Who had hired me briskly, - And turned to be a driver, To take cars over the Ural mountains. There was a long travel on the old car MAZ, Who was "up to ears" covered with dust because of age.                                                                                
© Lyudmila Purgina. Translation, 2014