I run-run, trudge, sliding along the mountain path. I cannot eat and I cannot sleep, and cannot drink, not a bit. Iíd like to stroll along Guríyev Street, But I run, I trudge along the mountain path. But Sam Brook from Guinea passed me on the turn. But yesterday everyone said: Samís a friend Sam is our Guinean friend. Guinean friend so or not, Iím falling farther behind, But I hope Iíll get my second wind. After that my third and fourth winds. So, with my fifth wind Iíll shorten the Guinean distance. Heís a good friend to me too. He passed me on the turn. But yesterday everyone said: Samís a friend Sam is our Guinean friend. The heart of the program is the marathon, but the temperature is thirty degrees. But heís used to the heat, heís made for it. He looks like it was minus thirty. But to reach him now. - I only have the strength left to curse. Heís a good friend to me too. He passed me on the turn. I need a friend like that, Sam the friend Sam is our Guinean Brutus.
© Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?