I fear the newborns, I’m afraid of the dead,
My fingers trace the features of my face in dread
My insides grow colder, I feel faint and more feeble,
Could it be that I am just like all of these people?

People, who live in the holes above mine
People, who crawl in the cracks below mine
People, whose snoring I hear through the walls
People, who rest beneath earth in their stalls

I’d give all I could for eyes that see all at night
I’d give all I could to have wings for flight,
A hand with fourteen fingers as thin as paper,
My breathing requires an unknown vapor

They have salty tears and make sudden sounds,
And there is never enough to go around
They love their own faces in the news today,
But tomorrow all the papers will be thrown away

People, who together give life to each other
People, who suffer unspeakable pain
People, who thoughtlessly shoot at each other
Yet who need to salt the meat that goes with their grains

They’d give all they could for eyes that see all at night;
They’d give all they could to have wings for flight,
A hand with fourteen fingers as thin as paper,
Their breathing requires an unknown vapor

• Original, verbatim, and final translations side by side detail
• Original Russian Lyrics
• This translation has been made possible by the willingness of my husband and his family to discuss what does and does not rhyme, and whether my liberal translation maintains the original’s meaning