Let’s drink, be merry, And don’t be tame. Your life’s a penny for me to aim. You, in felt breeches, let’s make a bet: I’ll shoot long distance, you at point-blank. Let’s get it started, I’m not afraid. Must hit a target: The ace of spades! Well, you were aiming at point-blank range, But I’m a sniper, and you’re small change. Where can you cover? My shot is lead! Nine points: your body, and ten’s your head! And like an ink drop on sheets so white, That night descended upon my life.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2021