Oh, Ványa, dear, I’m strolling through the streets of Paris.
All what I witness, all what I notice
I’m jotting in my notebook, like a true beholder,
to print a pamphlet when I get older.

About how, Vanya, we are needed here in Paris
as much as one needs pliers when one bathes.

The Russian emigrants are second generation,
with them it’s endless misinterpretations.
They mispronounce a lot, like every name that’s given,
and you, my Vanya, would be called Evan.

So mostly, Vanya, we are needed here in Paris
as much as you need skis when you are bathing.

I met a French girl and I’m mad about her.
Both Pierre and Jean became my closest friends.
And I’ve already climbed the Eiffel Tower
so I could spit on unsuspecting heads!

I’ll tell you, Vanya, we are needed here in Paris
as much as one needs pliers when one bathes.

Our cultural expansion on this planet
becomes apparent when you’re far away.
I saw in Paris, in a public toilet,
the words inscribed that only Russians say.

So mostly, Vanya, we are needed here in Paris
as much as you need skis when you are bathing.