By the edge, near the cliff, at the very, very limit I am beating at my horses with my arm, a whiplash in it. Iím not getting enough air - drinking wind, the fog imbibing, And I scent with deadly rapture: I am dying, I am dying! Just a little slower, horses, little slower now! Do not listen to the sharp whip, it is wrong! But the horses that I got are capricious ones I canít live to the end, I canít finish my song. I will let horses drink - the couplet I will sing For a little bit more I will stand on the brink... I will vanish - like a piece of dust by wind I will blown, In the morning they will drag me in the sleigh through the snow, O my horses, walk some slower, show a bit of moderation Just a little bit, prolong my way to final destination! Just a little slower, horses, little slower now! Do not listen to the sharp whip, it is wrong! But the horses that I got are capricious ones I canít live to the end, I canít finish my song. I will let horses drink - the couplet I will sing For a little bit more I will stand on the brink... We are here: nobody comes late here to greet the Lord of Heaven - Then, why do the angels sing with voices so angry and heavy? Or the bell does shake from weeping, weeping gently, weeping deeply, Or Iím shouting to the horses that they do not run so quickly? Just a little slower, horses, little slower now! I pray to you donít hurry along! But the horses that I got are capricious ones I canít live to the end, I canít finish my song. I will let horses drink - the couplet I will sing For a little bit more I will stand on the brink...
© Ilya Shambat. Translation, ?