I lighted all the candles in the churches, except for one,
So that a friend on an autumn evening would light it for me,
So that the long road would pass faster for me,
So that my soul, a bit more rested, would set off again for Russia.
Where, having torn the body to pieces in hell, it kept it alive -
Fought in the day, sang in the nights, let it have no rest.
Warmed with ice, fed with sky, cried for life that's not worth the candle,
Kissed with ripe snow, and tried to caress with fire.
Took away earthly love, bestowing longing and faith,
Diluting the thrilling life with measureless joy
Not a pole, not a yard, no money - only bitterness and anxiety,
And the sunset where nothing matters; where there's no door and no threshold.
I lighted all the candles in the churches, except for one,
So that a friend on an autumn evening would light it for me,
So that the long road would pass faster for me,
So that my soul, a bit more rested, would set off again for home.
I let go of the sins of the priests so that they would pray for me
Everything that my friends poured me - all to you, my Russia.
