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Áûëà äîëãàÿ òåìíàÿ òîìíàÿ íî÷ü
È ïîåçä ëeòåë è ãóäåë íàïåðåä.
Ìû ì÷èìñÿ ê òåáå âïåðåä íàïðîëåò -
Äîìîé, è ýòî áûëî ïî âåñíå.
Íà çàðå ëè ïî çàðå íåìíîãî âñòàëî ñîëíöå èç-çà åëè,
Ìíå ïåëà ïåñíþ î æèçíåííîì òåïëå
Ïòè÷êà-ñèíè÷êà.
È ãäå-òî ëåæàë íà òðàâå òàëûé ñíåã.
Ýòî áûëî â äâàäöàòûõ ÷èñëàõ àïðåëÿ.
ß ïðèåõàë äîìîé íà íåìíîãî.
Âñåãî-òî íà ïàðó äåíüêîâ,
Èìåÿ â ðóêàõ ñîâñåì-òî íåìíîãî
Äåíüæîíîê, äà ñóìêó-ñóìèùå
È âèçó òóäà, êóäà ìå÷òàë óëåòåòü.
ß äîëãî íå ñïàë,
È ìó÷åíèÿì ìîèì ñêîðî íàñòóïèò êîíåö,
Òàê äîëãî ìó÷èëñÿ è ñòðàäàë,
Ýòîãî íèêòî íå ïîéìåò.
Äà áûòü òîëüêî òîò ïîòîì îñîçíàåò,
Íà ñåáå èñïûòàâ,
÷òî áûòü ýìèãðàíòîì ïîíåâîëå - ýòî âîëÿ,
Êîòîðàÿ âåäåò ê ñâîáîäå.
ß óñòàë îòî ëæè è íåíàâèñòè áåç æàëîñòè,
Äàéòå ìíå ...
Òàêñè âûçâàâ íà çîðþøêå-çàðå,
Øîôåð ïîäúåõàâ, çàêèíóë æàëêèå ñóìèøêè,
Ñïðîñèë ìåíÿ ïî÷òè êàê â òîì êèíî
- Êóäà ïîåäåì?
À ÿ åìó òèõî â îòâåò
- Â àýðîïîðò.
È åäåì ìû âäâîåì êàê â ñêàçêå
Ïî íî÷íîìó-óòðåííåìó òàëëèííñêîìó ðàññâåòó,
Ãäå ìàøèí-òî âñåãî ëèøü íè÷åãî,
Äà è ëþäèøêè ñïÿò-ïîõðàïûâàþò,
È èì íåâäîìåê, ÷òî ïðîùàþñü ñ ðîäíîþ çåìëåé.
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* * *
It was long and dark night
The noisy train was flying ahead.
We are rumbling to you without a break
Towards home. And this was in spring.
At dawn, at first break of day
The sun slightly rose from behind a fir tree
Blue tit sang about sincere affection
Somewhere on the grass still lay melted snow
It was in 20th numbers of April.
I came back home,
For a few days or less,
Having on hand just a little of money,
A carrier bag-the-sack,
And a visa to the land I was dreaming to reach.
I had no sleep
But all my tortures will soon come to an end.
So long had I suffered, hard hit by them.
No one can understand,
Nor likely ever realize
Without testing on oneself
That being an immigrant
Unwillingly - it's will
Which leads to freedom.
I got tired of falsehood and hatred without compassion,
Just give me….
I ordered a taxi at the crack of dawn
The cabman pulled up to me and took my shabby sacks,
And asked, as in a film,
- Where you want me to drive?
And my quiet reply,
- To the airport.
And we go together as in fairy tale
From night to morning or Tallinn's dawn,
Having only a few cars around
And all simple people just sleep and slightly snore,
They would never guess that I part with my native land.
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