The languor nests inside my bones just like a snake,
My aching heart and sober head have come to terms.
High speed excitement fails to keep me wide-awake,
And blood no longer curdles on sharp turns.

I don’t remain on tenterhooks from love and hope,
The strain in shattered nerves is gone, they’re yours to rip.
My nerves are sagging badly like a laundry rope;
And I don’t worry who will win - myself or him.

I’m on the horse:
any force -
I’ll go down.
Only "don’t",
only "won’t"
are around.

I don’t drink water that is numbing from a spring,
Today I won’t be rushing neither things nor men.
My bow is sitting idly with a rotten string,
The arrows all are cracked, I heat my stove with them.

I’m not advancing, I’m not dashing anymore,
I’m not encouraged by the fact of the attack.
I don’t accept the risk, it’s something I deplore;
Those tearaways who rush headfirst I would not back.

I’m on the horse:
any force -
I’ll go down.
Only "don’t",
only "won’t"
are around.

I do not want to cheat, to reason, to deduce.
I lack intentions to unknot or tie a knot.
There is no need to cut the corners that’re obtuse,
For after the acute ones, those fell short.

No wistful tenderness can stir my soul again,
And I can’t be compelled or pressed to change my views.
All sorts of things became too alien to the brain,
So I’m not pinched by premonitions or tight shoes.

I’m on the horse:
any force -
I’ll go down.
Only "don’t",
only "won’t"
are around.

My wounds stopped aching lately and my scars don’t hurt,
There is a sterile dressing covering them well.
And I don’t have a single question, dream or thought
That itches me today, annoys or rings a bell.

A full height monument? The sculptor will decide.
No noose, no bullet in the head will be my cause.
I’m now transparent as a window open wide
And unimposing as a simple linen cloth.

And of course -
any force -
I’ll go down.
Only "don’t",
only "won’t"
are around.

I do not seek the cure-all or the root of life,
To me it’s pointless, since the ginseng does its bit.
I do not tremble, and I do not strain or strive;
There is no target that I try to hit.

I’m tired of fighting with the earth’s attractive force:
I’m lying to increase the distance to the noose.
My heart’s not there, but it’s still twitching back and forth,
It’s time to go - there’s only "don’t" and "won’t" to choose.

I’m on the horse:
any force -
I’ll go down.
Only "don’t",
only "won’t"
are around.