I’m about to drop exhausted,
Sense the floor beneath me sway
After full three months of floating
‘Cause of being given notice
At the whaler where I sailed.

Insomuch as I’m unsettled
Due to being long depraved,
I get warm by radiators,
Passing nights in lobby ways.

Mighty rich! Get warm and stay on!
Not a bullet or a noose!
Drink at times beyond all ratings,
Former mates come back from whaling
And carouse above a ruble.

Ruble’s just a slip of paper -
Keeping it is grave offence.
Ah, my soul’s a sailor’s vest of
Forty growth rings, seven vents.

But the Lord sends me a chance and
Earns a taper in that way,
Taking note of my disaster,
"Go ahead, - he says - to Vacha!
Hurry up before it’s late!"

A familiar bum informed me,
What this river Vacha was:
He was off to Vacha sobbing,
On his way back, laughed ass off.

Vacha is a shallow stream in
Right between Siberian lodes.
Vacha is a shack for sleeping,
Hired diggers venture teaming,
Digging out a lot of gold.

Work my ass off, like enlisted,
Never high on drinks or dopes,
Off to Vacha - take a ticket,
When I’m back, I’ll laugh ass off.

Hardly anything’s as swanky.
People know it. They can say.
To be brief, on river Vacha,
All in all, I earned as much as
A hundred seventeen work-days.

Figured out and deducted
Daily meals and other things,
Cleared on the whole three thousand
In the long run. Mighty rich!

Shoving cash into the pockets,
Where there’d never been a ruble,
I was off to warmer countries,
Closer to night clubs and cafes
To forget all doom and gloom.

There’s Georgian vodka, chacha, -
I will drink to that bum-source!
I was sobbing, off to Vacha,
I am back and laugh ass off.

In the run-up of spree session,
The conductor bowed and scraped.
Waiters fussed in agitation.
And at the nearest small station,
A woman entered the roomette.

For you, she might be a tacky,
As for me, a comely mold.
A was sobbing off to Vacha,
I am back and laugh ass off.

Chew the rag and get acquainted,
Valya learns about the dough.
Cut a deal negotiating,
Hundreds dart about the table.
And with Valya, dough gets off.

Well, she left me with a problem,
But I’ll cure it after all.
I was off to Vacha sobbing,
I am back and laugh ass off.

After five days like a draught, here
Is an open see up front.
All the money has run out,
The conductor turns up snout
And for vodka, doesn’t run.

Spend remaining ruble in Sochi,
Got a telegram to cable -
"Guys, send dough! I’ll labor off it.
I have laughed all mine away."

Curse or cry, but cannot help it.
What’s become of you, loose dough?
I’m yours again, my treasured,
Unforgettable and precious
Bums of Magadan skid row!

By my nose, they carry chacha.
By my mouth, marmalade.
I am going back to Vacha,
Laughing ass off at myself.