My fiancée, surely, will sincerely mourn me, And my friends will settle any debts I owe; Some will take my songs and they will sing them for me, And may I be honored even by my foes. No more books to read, no more pens to write with, Even my guitar is out of tune. I cannot go leftward, I cannot go rightward, I can’t see the sun, and I can’t see the moon. I can’t go outside - I’ve been disempowered, - Only from the door and to the wall. I cannot go upward, I cannot go downward, I can see a sliver of sky, and my dreams - that’s all. Dreams about how, someday, I’ll regain my freedom, My guitar once more’ll sound true and clear; Whom will I be met by? How will I be greeted? And what songs will I, then, get to hear?
© Serge Elnitsky. Translation, 2003