In my sleep are yellow lights, And I rasp while dreaming: "Wait a while, just wait a while, Morning beats the evening!" But the morning feels all wrong, Not the same enjoyment: You just smoke or drink alone, on an empty stomach. Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times. Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times. In the pubs - the green-glass flasks, Tables with white napkins. Foolsí and beggarsí paradise, Iím a bird held captive! In the church thereís heavy fog, Deaconsí incenseís fuming. No, in church it too feels wrong, Not the way it should be! Hoping nothing goes amiss, I climb in a hurry. On the hill stand alder trees, down below - a cherry. Would be great if ivy vines On this slope were rooted, Anything to please my eyes... Not the way it should be! Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times. Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times. Through the field, along the creek, With no God Iím ambling. In the field cornflowers peaked, And the road unending. Down the road a forest stands, Where the witches scuffled, And towards the roadís far end - Axes on the scaffold. Dancing hoofbeats come along, Grudgingly and gently. Down the road it all looks wrong, More so where itís ending. Nothingís holy anymore: Neither church nor taverns! No, my fellas, itís all wrong! Itís all wrong, my fellas. Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times. Hey, once, one more time, One of many, many times.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022