That spring just started budding, We hardly were parting, And every soul felt trapped inside the chest. But two came to my doorstep: An escort, an escort. "Get out", they said, "Five minutes to get dressed." I begged the officer that took me in: "Donít take me out of and away from spring!" I sweated past late April, Unwilling to sign papers, For forty days I beat around the bush. But then, a dropping cleaver: They took my Katerína, And suddenly they got me on the hook. I knew: Iím walking on thin ice. Please show me spring at least through window glass! And so again train stations, Freight wagons, and processions; The joints of rails are counting down my way. But here, behind the window, Are birch trees and green willows. "Do not forget," theyíre trying best to say. Along the way the boys would wave and cheer. Why are you taking me away from spring? I looked at Kate intently: "Weíre leaving!" "Iím not ready." "No, Katya, I canít live without my spring!" And Katya quickly whispered: "Enough of this, sufficient." And to the taiga that same night we slipped. How tenderly she took us under wing! So, that is how you are, my darling spring! But on the morn those snitches Picked up our trail, those bitches, Like dogs, picked up our trail and we were clubbed. Canít move no legs nor fingers: They tied and dragged us, bitches, Like carrion they dragged us through the mud. I understood I wonít see any dreams, Iím now completely hidden from my spring.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022