The vehicles are passing, another went by, Towards the concrete destination, As if from the song that’s about the MAZ truck, That’s laden with Caspian herring. I’m walking the roads like a tramp with his sack, I’m frugal in saving my kopeks. I’m also conserving my strength that I lack, I’m muffling my scream with my collar. I’ll live if I learn what’s the reason to live. I’m 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