Михаил Круг — Кольщик

Tattoo artist, ink church domes on me, Next to them a miracle-working cross with icons, So the bells would ring there With their flowing chimes and peals. Ink me a little house by a stream, Let it flow freely in a thin trickle, So the tailor-judge can't fence me off From it with iron bars.

Draw a crimson sunset, A rose behind rusty barbed wire, The line: "Mom, I'm not to blame!" Ink it, and let them try to erase it. If there's enough room — draw A boat with sails full of wind, I'll sail away — take that, you wolves… So you'll remember me forever.

Don't judge me, Mom, I lived for only one thing — Knowing you were waiting for me. I know you cry in the evenings and dream That I'm still little, Sneaking up to you And covering your eyes with my palms. You pretend to ask: "Dad? Tatyanka?" I laugh: "No-no, you didn't guess!" Say hello to Dad and Tanya. The money in the envelope never came — Those bastards took it all, But I'll come back to spite them, Because you're waiting for me.

It settled on my soul like peace — To see my mother is my only wish. Ink a cross so I can take with me Deliverance, but not repentance. Ink a cross so I can take with me Deliverance, but not repentance.