Open me up a bottle of white - I知 not used to this world. I値l burn out, and this burning Hot vapor will untie my tongue. Open me up a bottle, hostess, I値l warm myself, I値l burn, At the bar, on the very edge, I値l wipe out all self-doubt I値l grow languid to the point of indecency, The cold prison ladle - all that is behind me now. And that lump from the time of the personality cult Turns blue on my left breast. Open me up a bottle of white - I知 not used to this world. I値l burn out, and this burning Hot vapor will untie my tongue. How much faith and forests were cut down, How much grief and roads we passed through, On my left breast - Stalin痴 profile, While on the right - Little Marina痴 portrait. Oh, because of my selfless belief How many years did I rest in paradise! I traded my foolish naivity For an opaque life. Open me up a bottle of white - I知 not used to this world. I値l burn out, and this burning Hot vapor will untie my tongue. I recall how early one morning I called out to my brother: "Help!" And two handsome bodyguards Took me away from Siberia and back again. But later, perhaps at the quarry, perhaps in the swamp Swallowing our last tears and supplies, We hid the pictures closer to our hearts So that He could hear how our hearts were breaking. Open me up a bottle of white - I知 not used to this world. I値l burn out, and this burning Hot vapor will untie my tongue. Oh, she shivers from my sick story, The vapor chased the thoughts out of my mind. From the cold fog of the past I dip into the burning steam. My thoughts came knocking, It turns out that I kept them in vain, And I tied them up like birch branchs As heritage of the gloomy times. Open me up a bottle of white - I知 not used to this world. I値l burn out, and this burning Hot vapor will untie my tongue.
Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?