Fatigue is crawling, like a lizard, in my bones. My heart and sober head are not at war. My blood no longer chills at hairpin turns. Breathtaking speed is not breathtaking anymore. My throat isn’t caught by love gone mad. My nerves aren’t taut. You wanna rip ’em? Go ahead! Like laundry ropes my nerves are slack and thin. I don’t care if I lose or if I win. If you push, down I go, I confess. All I’ve got is just "no," Never "yes." Tap water lately I refuse to drink. Not rushing people or events (not in the mood). My bow lies on the floor with a rotten string. My broken arrows I now use as firewood. Not active. Not involved. Just kinda "there." Attack me all you want: I don’t care. I’m more transparent than a window, open wide. Like linens, inconspicuous and white. If you push, down I go, I confess. All I’ve got is just "no," Never "yes."                             My scars don’t ache, and my wounds don’t hurt: They have been sterilized and bandaged at the seams. I’m neither bothered, nor annoyed, nor concerned With apprehensions, or with questions, or with dreams. I’m tired of fighting gravity - I lose. I just lie low: this way it’s farther to the noose! My heart it jerks, as if in someone else’s chest. It’s time to go where it’s all "no" and never "yes." If you push, down I go, I confess. All I’ve got is just "no," Never "yes."                            
© Vadim Astrakhan. Translation, 2013
© Vadim Astrakhan. Performance, 2013