It was Sunday - that is why I abstained from pocket picking,
Like all people I must rest one day at least!
But then - bang! - a whistle blows, I am captured, someone’s shrieking:
"He’s a thief and he’s a damn recidivist!"

"Easy, buddy, don’t get pissed,
My name’s Luzhin, is it clear?
And who’s this recidivist -
I don’t have a deuced idea!"

It was Sunday, but the cops hustled on with no repose -
They must carry out a plan for catching thieves!
If a cop on duty catches a repeater, I suppose,
A promotion and bonus he receives!

I was brought to the police,
Captain met me with a sneer:
"Welcome home, recidivist!
Sign the protocol down here!"

It was Sunday - in the park folks were strolling, dating, chatting,
In the sky the sun was careless and glad;
But for me the day was black as at the station I was sweating,
With the Captain’s questions banging on my head:

"Times in jail? - the captain quizzed.
"Listen, cap, it’s a delusion!" -
"But you’re a recidivist?" -
"No, comrade, I am Luzhin".

It was Sunday but for me ’twas the day of perspiration,
I was hoodwinking, confessing no crimes;
But the captain took a pen and did a thorough calculation
And he said I’d been in prison seven times!

"Sign your name, - he clenched his fist.
Be precise, I hate confusion!"
So I signed - "Recidivist",
And then added - "Surname: Luzhin!"

It was Sunday - I was crushed, Captain being hard and pushy,
Yet there’s one thing that improves my gloomy moods -
I have made my very modest, though honest, contribution
To the seven year plan for catching hoods!