You left our on a flighty whim
Seeing you again-neither fact nor law.
I am eastbound now and my prospects-grim.
I"ll work the goldmines of Bodaibo.

You"ll not cry for me, neither will you wait.
To my family, you"ll grow cold.
I couldn"t care less. Have neither love nor hate.
For my country I will mine gold.

All is quiet now.  Wheels no longer tap.
Train tracks have come to an end.
My soul wants to cry, but my tears dried up.
Seven years this "drought""ll be kept.

That you will not wait, I couldn"t care less.
For my wretched life, don"t worry much!
Just remember this: may your life be blessed
Not to meet up with me and my righteous grudge.

I will serve my time.  No denying that.
I will be a free bird at last!
But, while I am HERE on a cold flat bed,
I will try to FORget the past.

Forests-endless sea, waves of greenery.
Want to howl at the moon like a wretch!
At my back-seven thousand kilometers
And ahead-a seven-year stretch.

2006