Some good people said
it is a sin to live at liberty1;
our fate is to endure and suffer
and lay down our lives in the field.
A hangdog waltz
plays from all directions,
no way to escape it;
a hangdog waltz,
a disease of the soul.
Their world rushes to its doom
against the backdrop of our growth;
we would only have to burn these books,
everything would be so easy then.
A hangdog waltz,
draw the curtains on windows and door,
so that the light cannot reach here;
a hangdog waltz;
for now we don't need others.
Now only God knows a wicked heart,
and a candle burns on the altar.
You can lie to people for a long while,
but you cannot lie forever.
A hangdog waltz is
in everybody's ears, while all around
everything is indeed silent.
From the shadows,
the Moon rises uncannily.
1. as Soviet propaganda would condemn the Western way of life