Along the ravine, above the precipice, on the very edge
I beat my stallions with the whip, - I urge them on, -
But I can’t get enough air, I drink the wind, I swallow the fog,
I Feel, with disastrous delight - that I am failing, failing!

A bit slower, stallions, a bit slower!
You’re hard and don’t follow the whip!
But something tells me that these stallions are fastidious
And I didn’t succeed in surviving, and won’t succeed in finishing singing!

I shall water the stallions, I shall finish the couplet, -
Perhaps a bit longer I’ll stand at the edge!..

I will bend, the hurricane will blow me away like a downy feather,
And in the sleigh I gallop along the morning snow.
Change to an unhurried trot, my stallions!
Just a little bit, prolong this trip to our final shelter!

A bit slower, stallions, a bit slower!
My whip and club are not punishments to you!
But something tells me that these stallions are fastidious
And I didn’t succeed in surviving, and won’t succeed in finishing singing!

I shall water the stallions, I shall finish the couplet, -
Perhaps a bit longer I’ll stand at the edge!..

We made it - on a visit to God there are no delays.
So why are the angels singing with such evil voices?
Or is the bell completely demented from all the sobbings,
Or will I shout to my stallions that they don’t bear the sleigh so quickly?

A bit slower, stallions, a bit slower!
I beg you not to fly at a gallop!
But something tells me that these stallions are fastidious
And I didn’t succeed in surviving, and won’t succeed in finishing singing!

I shall water the stallions, I shall finish the couplet, -
Perhaps a bit longer I’ll stand at the edge!..