Floating down, through canals
Memories come rushing up to meet me now
But in the spaces between the camps
And the corner of some cotton field
We had to toil
Labor force, no recourse
Soviet Gulag presses on this Volga course
Remote construction of a copper mine
And a Trans-Siberian railroad line
We had to toil
Food is scarce. Freezing chill
These are harsh conditions but I must endure it still
Among these plains doubts and fears remain
What’s more, these Bolsheviks are driving me insane
Once I’ve escaped Stalin’s command
I’ll return to take her precious hand
After the service when she walked slowly to the car
And the snowflakes in her hair
Shone in the cold December air
At the tolling of the bell
The tears began to swell
Ten years have passed
All hopes are gone but it’s the end of the war
And no-one takes them prisoner anymore
No-one kills false prisoners anymore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem