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 isnít caught by love gone mad. My nerves arenít taut. You wanna rip íem? Go ahead! Like laundry ropes my nerves are slack and thin. I donít care if I lose or if I win. If you push, down I go, I confess. All Iíve 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 donít care. Iím more transparent than a window, open wide. Like linens, inconspicuous and white. If you push, down I go, I confess. All Iíve got is just "no," Never "yes."                             My scars donít ache, and my wounds donít hurt: They have been sterilized and bandaged at the seams. Iím neither bothered, nor annoyed, nor concerned With apprehensions, or with questions, or with dreams. Iím tired of fighting gravity - I lose. I just lie low: this way itís farther to the noose! My heart it jerks, as if in someone elseís chest. Itís time to go where itís all "no" and never "yes." If you push, down I go, I confess. All Iíve got is just "no," Never "yes."                            
© Vadim Astrakhan. Translation, 2013
© Vadim Astrakhan. Performance, 2013