It’s all behind me: holding cells and pens, The prosecutor and the judges three; And now I wait, and now I wait, to find out - where will I be sent? Where’ll I be sent, to work for free? Mom starts weeping, "Where, oh where?" She keeps on mumbling in despair, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent? Mom starts weeping, "Where, oh where?" But I, myself, don’t really care, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent. To Magadan, the mail comes slightly faster; To Vorkuta, it takes an extra week or two. But over there, but over there, the place is filled with greedy bastards, So, either way, my parcels won’t get through. Mom is weeping, "Where, oh where?" She keeps on mumbling in despair, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent? Mom is weeping, "Where, oh where?" But I, myself, don’t really care, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent. The guards walk in - I hear them through my slumber - They wake me up and escort me away; And so right now, right here and now, this means that I’ll be taken somewhere - Exactly where, the scoundrels wouldn’t say. Mom’s still weeping, "Where, oh where?" She still keeps mumbling in despair, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent? Mom’s still weeping, "Where, oh where?" But I, myself, don’t really care, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent. The din grows louder; now, we’re at the station. Thank God, at least, I’ve some tobacco left; And now we’re told, and now we’re told, that Kola is our destination - Or maybe someplace else in the North-West. Mom’s still weeping, "Where, oh where?" She still keeps mumbling in despair, Oh where, oh where, will I be sent? Mom, stop weeping, "Where, oh where?" Here’s what should be our only care: Oh when, oh when, will I be home again?
© Serge Elnitsky. Translation, 2003