На чёрный день [Na chyornyy denʹ] [English translation]

For rainy day - the tired dance of drunken eyes and punctured arms*.

The second - down, the fourth - in jail, the eight one is condemned to die.

From 'neath the wheels -to the wires, from 'neath the asphalt - to "fuck off".

Into still waters with the troubled head.

The cold of sweat. The circles of the waves.

An iron horse. The camouflage. The chiseled tracks are all lined up.

Attraction only for the noobs - and horses circle round and round.

As crooked mirrors keep on jangling inside wind-up kaleidoscope.

The wheel is turning faster every day.

To sounds of marches - off with their heads.

The moth ate up the colored shawl. The cards are showing three and seven.

With his tail the bull swipes flies, and climbs uphill with heart grown heavy.

The cubes of billiard balls from impact split in half,

and rolled onto both sides

and into corners of the far and wide.

Under the shards of smashed displays remain the shreds of party outfits.

Underneath the tracks of sleighs - the living flesh of people's troubles.

Behind the counter, from a hat, a parrot fishes out the tickets for the tram

to bridge so nearby

for chopper with no windows and no doors.

Into still waters with the troubled head.

The wheel is turning faster every day.

• Artist:Yanka Dyagileva