Письмо маме [Pis'mo mame] [English translation]

You gently stroke with a warm hand

My last letter to you

My rare letter to home

And you think, probably, about fate,

You think about how we'll meet again

I'll buy you flowers as always

I know, mom, you're tired of waiting

And only you can wait for me.

Chorus:

Forgive me, I'm sorry

Forgive me, I'm sorry

Mommy, mom mom,

Mommy, mom

For your tears, my dear,

For the three-lined letters under your pillow,

For your son, forgive me,

For the judgements written in all caps by hand,

For the holidays in the kitchen at the stove,

For the package; overweight by three hundred grams,

Which the cops did not accept

And for the secret messages from prison to friends.

For your old and faded handkerchief,

Which I recognize from behind bars,

For your heartfelt word "son",

For your mother's caress,

Forgive me, I'm a good-for-nothing son,

My words are in my soul, they are not in the letter,

I'm sorry, I'm the only one you got,

Not much longer to wait, I'll be let out in spring.

• Artist:Mikhail Krug