In my dream - a fire burns, and as I sleep Iím moaning: "Wait for the light to return - not too long till morning!" But the morningís wrong - unreal All the joy is over: I just smoke before the meal Sometimes drink, hungover. One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times... One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times... In the bars - the light is dim, and the fools and paupers fill their glasses to the brim, For me itís wrong - improper. To the church I turn my head, in search for salvation... But the church is snide and dead, Just an imitation! To the mountains then I flee, gasping for thin air, - on the peak grows an elm tree, and at the bottom - pears. If only grass grew on the slope - even that would suffice just one thing to bring me hope... But thereís no grass, just ice One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times... One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times... Searched the fields, along the stream: Day or night - no God! Just this lonesome gypsy theme, and the stretching road. By the road - thick forests grow. Fiends and witches lurking. At the end of it, I know - the axemanís smirking Prancing wildly, to the song, seven wayward horses. Along the road, all is wrong, and the end is worse. In the church, or in the bar - nothingís ever sacred! No my friends, all places are lonesome and forsaken One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times... One time, and one more time, Many, many, many times...
© Ilya Yakubovich. Translation, 2006