Crooked Vaska stabbed three fishermen
With a sharpened scrap of a spike
He turned out their pockets and gathered silver
Almost four rubles
He shook out a backpack and found in it
Half a bottle of trashy wine
Drank the wine and fell asleep on the sand
The river wave turned red
Chorus:
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere
Crooked Vaska was tied up asleep
And sent to the city for trial
It's hot today for the judges, they, not hiding,
Drink cold kvass in glasses
And over them is a fly-bitten coat of arms
An old coat of arms made from cast lead
And on it, a sickle drenched in the blood of a plowman
And a hammer in the blood of a smith
Chorus:
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere
Crooked Vaska, having been awakened at dawn,
Without refueling they bring to the corridor
A blind corridor and chipped bricks
And a tiled floor
The Mother of God was beating at the entrance to the prison
Against the iron door with her head
But from a glazed tile, Vaska's blood
Was washed off with water from hoses by the guards
Chorus:
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
They flow, going nowhere