You have gone for a short time.
God forbid we should meet again.
I am headed East by cattle car,
Sentenced, God willing, to the mines.

You won’t cry and you won’t grieve,
Nor see the family, young or old.
I don’t give a damn, I’ll be out here
Digging the fatherland’s gold.

All has stopped; the wheels stand still.
The rails and ties have reached an end.
Had I the tears, the air I’d rend,
But tears no longer flow on earth.

Never mind, don’t wait, Godspeed!
Don’t let my hardship cause you pain.
But remember this, God willing.
Our paths shall one day cross again.

My term will end; I shall survive
And be a free man yet!
But here in exile I sleep on planks
And try my best to forget.

If windswept forests, endless blue
I find, How can I hold my tears?
Kilometers seven thousand lie behind.
Ahead? Seven blue years1.