Была долгая темная томная ночь

And lovely girl from the customs booth made of glass, —

— Your passport and ticket.


Lord mercy,

God, how much I’m tired of all of them!

I step and scarcely drag my weary body

As if not mine,

To my first aircraft-the-plane

MD10T of air-company SAS.


My dear friends, forgive me,

But live this way no longer I can.

Farewell. Do not burry me alive

As it happened to me some time in the past.


I flew away, heading there, nowhere.

What did I know then on the eve?

I may come back, — told me my soul,

But my mind replied, — Sorry,

You go there for good.


(Sketch of translation by Taras Shatko and Boris Garbuzov, August, 2001)