Make a steam bath for me of white cleanliness, For I’ve been out of light for too long. I will burn to get rid of my weariness, And hot steam will then loosen my tongue. Make a steam bath for me, good proprietor, I will warm myself up, rest assured. On the edge of the shelf, I’ll sit quietly To get rid of my worries for good. I’ll unwind to the point of insanity, One cold scoop, and it’s all left behind. The tattoo of the cult of personality Will glow blue on my chest, the left side. Make a steam bath for me of white cleanliness, For I’ve been out of light for too long. I will burn to get rid of my weariness, And hot steam will then loosen my tongue. Many faiths, many trunks have been fallen, Many sorrows and paths I have traced. On my left breast - the profile of Stalin, On the right side - Marina, full-face. For my faith of the utmost sincerity, I have rested in Eden too long! I have bartered my utter stupidity For a life that’s gone totally wrong. Make a steam bath for me of white cleanliness, For I’ve been out of light for too long. I will burn to get rid of my weariness, And hot steam will then loosen my tongue. I remember that morning quite vividly: I entreated my brother to write, Then two guards took me out of Siberia To another Siberian site. After that, in the forests or quarries, We just swallowed our tears mixed with booze. Close to hearts we tattooed Stalin’s profiles, So he’d hear how our hearts would run loose. Make a steam bath for me of white cleanliness, For I’ve been out of light for too long. I will burn to get rid of my weariness, And hot steam will then loosen my tongue. I have chills from this story meticulous, The steam chases away all my thoughts. From the fog of the bitter cold history, I plunge into the blistering fog. Troubling thoughts in my head keep on pestering: I was branded with him, but in vain. I lash out with birch leaves at the legacy Of the era of darkness and pain. Make a steam bath for me of white cleanliness, For I’ve been out of light for too long. I will burn to get rid of my weariness, And hot steam will then loosen my tongue.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2024