Дурень [Duren'] [English translation]

My heart was aching with grief

So I reached to grab my scabbard

Only it had been empty for a while

My sword lying in a bog somewhere

I wanted to adorn my chest with armor

But my vest had become rusty

Lying in the cellar for years

And getting damp

I wanted to mount my horse

But the poor old creature collapsed

It could only see with one eye

And its legs could not hold it

So I walked from village to village

Wearing my bast shoes

And each time I was chased away

Once I fell asleep under an oak tree

And someone took my bast shoes, too

For thirty years I roamed the trails

Then I decided to go back home

But I'd forgotten what my starting point was

Back when I still wore my bast shoes

Oy-oh, fool!

Oy, o-o-o...

And so I walked for three more years

Wearing my old, ragged clothes

Then I got on the road

Leading to my family's hut

But the hut was nowhere to be found

Just a few logs and a well

From which you couldn't drink a shit

Because it was filled with earth

So I sat on a maple tree stamp

All tired and hungry

And there was a witch looking at me

Shaking her crooked stick

Saying: "Well, you fool,

you didn't appreciate what you had.

You set out on a road

while there was so much work at home.

Now sit and wait for your demise,

all dirty, with no bast shoes.

Death is not too far away.

It will be here before you know it!"