Текст песни Варлам Шаламов - У мертвых лица напряженные

The dead have tense faces
No indifference, no peace,
Irritated by yesterday's pain
Or yesterday's melancholy.
And after the hippocratic mask
Death's guise law -
As if everyone was delighted
The similarity, not the difference.
Without controlling the nerves at all,
They don't just die
In the minutes after death, the first
They are special.
As if only in their presence,
No matter how cruel it seems
As a poetic parting word
Read Blok's quatrain.
This is how the Romans used to die,
Opening veins to the music
The habits of the past are unshakable
We have forgotten them gradually.
And the winner of cancer pain
A little bit is leaving us,
And he shows us with signs
My last road