I was good in face and in height,
Thanks to my mother and father,
Was good in relations with others - Not forced them, nor urged either.
Was not bending my back - was straight and lean,
And through my moustache never breathed, I lived as lived,
My head with my hands trying to hold and keep.

But there was also a denunciation and lie -
May be a five hundred of some men, Yet no one of our ones;
And there was a room with a table "Take care of time".
They are there all without salt,
Randomly they put there a stamp on the envelope -
And sent it to the suburbs of Mozhaisk.

Then - the freedom, then - to home
With a seven years behind the back -
And that years hang on me - You can’t throw or sell them.
But I’ve got acquainted with the chief once,
Who had hired me briskly, - And turned to be a driver,
To take cars over the Ural mountains.

There was a long travel on the old car MAZ,
Who was "up to ears" covered with dust because of age.