Нога судьбы [Noga sud'by] [English translation]

Bullkolay Wholeate hasn't known the youth.

Bullkolay Wholeate was escaping the truth.

But he used an elevator instead of a razor,

He stepped out into December;

He sucked on turquoise and ate chunks of amber;

The ocean sung like a stallion that is seeing a horse.

He burned the Lukoil office along with a gas station,

Without reason, casually.

Out of respect to the conflagration.

Ekaterina-from-Peskov had a celebrity status,

Until a migrant Mordvin1 chewed through the cables…

She was amused that he wasn’t in love;

She was eating for breakfast a bunch of his type;

General’s daughters do not understand “not allowed”;

And as for the rest, she would utter:

"Why the heck we need enemies,

When we have such friends around?"

Acid jazz is a fiesta; rock-n-roll is a cadaver.

A DJ squeezed with his teeth a getting cold wire.

Waitresses dropped while crying: “Banzai!”

She whispered, “My Darling!”

He whispered: “Goodbye!”

It is clear as daylight that their escape is too awkward.

Eight days on a tractor through the steppe in snow:

Beauty never was easily conquered.

There is a stream by Tobolsk where pollock spawns,

There are hunting trails to the Ceylon and China lawns -

There flying fish will leap straight into the mouth,

Or, in other words, feng shui that has gone south.

She is in feminine business;

He is dancing and smoking the shroom.

Old folks chat about them: “Om Mani Padme Hum”,

What roughly translates as

The Foot of Doom.

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mordvins