For me my fiancée will sob out truly, For me my old buddies will pay off the debt, For me my chansons may finish playing fully, And to me may drink up enemies, I bet. Books to care about I’m not given, no, And unstrung forever my guitar is done. Shouldn’t be above, I shouldn’t be below, Shouldn’t see the moon light, shouldn’t see the sun. Shouldn’t be at large now - haven’t got a right to, - Only to the wall from the doorway. Shouldn’t to the left go, neither to the right do - Only may have scraps of the sky, only dreams I may. Dreams about some day I’ll take my ways free, My guitar returning with a string, Who’ll meet me there, how will embrace me, And about songs they could me sing.
© Natalia Tverskova. Translation, 2000