All my life it’s the same, It’s the same, unending: There’s no cash, there’s no dame, And there won’t be, ever. All my life I would steal, All my life I’m working, Wish I could save a bit, Now it’s just hungover. There’s no roof o’er my head, And no face to treasure; I don’t have any friends, And there won’t be, ever. Only vodka is for three, Only spades and diamonds, Nothing comes in life for free, Every step’s the hardest.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022