Each and every thing
goes in its trodden trail:
Speak of what ye think -
and they’ll send you to jail,

Thieve - and also ye’ll
spend your time being locked,
Know a dangerous field -
and ye’ll be hanged or shot.

I believed in a short while the labor camp must be
Out of sight, out of sight,
But I’ve found myself in this town blurred and dusty
With no life, with no life.

Crowds of people walk here but no person seems human,
Every look’s blank and dim.
I look at the black faces appear in the gloom and
See nor strangers nor kin.

Each and every thing
goes in its trodden trail:
Speak of what ye think -
and they’ll send you to jail,

Thieve - and also ye’ll
spend your time being locked,
Know a dangerous field -
and ye’ll be hanged or shot.

So what for did I censure my fate for its keenness?
What a sham, what a sham!
So what for did I yearn for so long for deliverance
In the camp, in the camp?

Crowds of people walk here but no person seems human,
Every look’s blank and dim.
I look at the black faces appear in the gloom and
See nor strangers nor kin.