And soul and head, in pain, it seems, - Believe me, that Iím do not pretend. Two hundred thousands - to one, whoíll free me! Well, and I will try, of course Iím. I need to go there, where wind with pines, - I need to, and thatís all, - over there more exciting! Share at least all your smokes And in addition also - the songs. Give me a mouthful of a different air! Do I dare to grumble? Surely, I dare. It smells in here... And may be, the question in perfume?.. I will thank you, when I could. Though my nerves are made of tin, My tranquility finished for ever. Hey, you, my bared nerves! Get back to life- and walk as if like crippled; Donít look at me, because Iíve clenched my lips, - If word getís out, it will be - angry one, - I wouldíve in the slippers run away to taiga, - Bury myself somewhere - a howl!
© Anatoli Trojanowski. Translation, 2015