Slightly drunk, just a bit, I drove through the wood, And I sang for my health while the going was good. And I knew how to sing foolish songs, ‘tis true: Oh black eyes, black eyes, how have I loved you... And they shook, and they raced, and they trotted along, And they flung mud in my face while I sang my song, But I’d swallow my spit with the mud they would fling, And I’d have some more wine, and again I would sing: Oh black eyes, black eyes, how I loved you - that song. But I finished all that I took along, And I shook my head, so the wine would clear, And I looked ahead and whistled at what I see here: A forest that won’t let past a wall black as night. The horses are backing up, trying to turn, trying to flee... I don’t see a damn thing! Where’s the track? Where’s the light? Pine needles reach my bones as they tear at me. My lead horse, my love, save me then, I say! Where are you going, brother? Why backing away? The branches drip down stinking rain to the earth - And a wolf has dived under my wheeler’s girth! What a drunken fool, filled his eyes with wine, For it is my death and I don’t dare fly! They have stolen an ace from that deck of mine And such an ace without which I die! I scream at the wolves: Hell burn you all to ash! And my horses are driven by fear’s lash. I crack the whip, beat their sweating sides, And I sing to the wind: Black eyes, black eyes... Hoof-thunder, and wheel-scream, and a wild dance That the jingle bells hanging up in the arch play... Oh, I’ll kill you, my horses, my very last chance; Come, friends, and come, enemies, and carry us away... From that wild chase all my booze had flown. Up the mountain face we went on axles alone. Sweat ran off their sides, raced off in rain all about; They slowed down and stopped gasping and coughed the dust out. I turned to my beaten horses, that did not fail my trust, And I bowed to them low, down to the very dust. I unloaded the cart, and I led them downhill. God save you, my horses, that I walk alive still.
What had sunk, what had floated, what had risen and set... Life threw me around but not too far yet... Or perhaps the way I sang of you wasn’t right, Eyes so black, tablecloth so white...
© Tamara Vardomskaya. Translation, ?