Forty surnames I used in my lifetime, Seven passports I held overall, Fifty women were calling me "lover", And my foes made two hundred or more. But I don’t regret It! All my efforts were senseless, My attempts felt quite lacking: There were always some fellas Who deserved a good whacking. Even though my life journey was rocky, Even though you’ll be right to commend, No one’s going to write me an obit On the very last page at the end. But I don’t regret It! All my efforts were senseless, My attempts felt quite lacking: With the help of some fellas I would fall off the wagon. Even though I believed in true values, For example, in the folk of our state, You won’t see on the plaza my statue Somewhere close to the Petrovsky gates. But I don’t regret It! All my efforts looked senseless, My attempts felt quite lacking: I was drifting, defenseless, Just to fall off the wagon. About dramas and lives of pickpóckets I’m composing my lyrics today. You won’t see my good name on the posters Of the popular concerts and plays. But I don’t regret It! All my efforts were senseless, My attempts felt quite lacking, Since I always was careless And walked back in the slammer. "You’ll get over it," - people predicted. Should I quit? - I’m afraid that’s my fate. It’s unlikely that I will be minted On a coin as a head of the state. But I don’t regret It! What’s the point being better? My attempts hardly matter. To resolve this dilemma I just need to get plastered!
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2023