The vehicles are passing, another went by, Towards the concrete destination, As if from the song thatís about the MAZ truck, Thatís laden with Caspian herring. Iím walking the roads like a tramp with his sack, Iím frugal in saving my kopeks. Iím also conserving my strength that I lack, Iím muffling my scream with my collar. Iíll live if I learn whatís the reason to live. Iím able, without any straining, To wake up and get up, if I could just sleep, To sing, if no blizzard is raving.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022