We were finding our bearings by Vega, By the brightest night star in the sky. Why do we choose the night for escaping? Why are we always caught if we try? It’s because we’ve been driven in boxcars like cattle, It’s because the return route’s forgotten, all right. It’s because we were sitting in windowless barracks, It’s because of our eyes unaccustomed to light!
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022