On a cliff over a chasm, in my sled and nearly slipping, I am lashing at my horses. I am rushing, I am whipping. Drinking fog and gulping gale... Am I running out of air? Itís the end! I see it clear with a jubilant despair. Slow down for me, horses! Slow down for me! Donít you let my whip drive you on! But I wound up with these horses so ornery... Didnít finish my life, will not finish my song. Iíll let my horses drink. One more verse I will sing. Just a little bit longer Iíll cling to the brink. I will perish like a feather blown away by the tornado, And the sled across the snow will drag me, leaving deep striations... Bring it down to a walk, my horses! - We can make it there later! - Wonít you stave off my arrival at the final destination! Slow down for me, horses! Slow down for me! Ease your gallop and just trot along! But I wound up with these horses so ornery... Didnít finish my life, cannot finish my song. Iíll let my horses drink. One more verse I will sing. For a split second longer Iíll cling to the brink. We have made it. Canít be late, when youíre invited to Godís table. But why do I hear angels chanting, and their voices sound so evil? Or is that a crazy sleigh bell crying, choking in its rattle, As Iím yelling at my horses to slow down just a little? Slow down for me, horses! Please, slow down for me! I am begging you: hold back your run! But I wound up with these horses so ornery... Didnít finish my life, let me finish my song! Iíll let my horses drink. One last verse I will sing. For a split second longer Iíll cling to the brink.
© Timothy D. Sergay + Julie Deshtor. Translation, 2017
© Vadim Astrakhan. Performance, 2017