Voz, pospani voz za Harkov
Gomelj, Lenjingrad
znam kako je
noćas dalek Beograd

Neće moći nikada olovka ni hartija
ni svi ruski poštari
ne mogu ti odneti pismo
koje pišem ja, marka s likom Lenjina
i u pismu jedina tuga što me razbija

Nije votka rakija, mada noćas udara
tuga mi je velika, velika k'o Rusija
ja ne mogu poslati ljubav
jer se ne šalje
nit sam mog'o poneti s' sobom tvoje poljupce

Voz, u vozu izgužvana lica putnika
ti si tamo negde iza onih planina
da l' si možda zaspala il' si budna kao ja
da l' te muče nemiri il' te ništa ne muči

Kada budeš čitala pismo
koje pišem ja
tajna biće skrivena
iza ovih redova

Train, sleepy train to Kharkov,
Gomel, Leningrad
I know how far
Belgrade is tonight

Neither pen neither paper
Neither all Russian postmen
Will be able to bring you letter
That I'm writing - stamp with picture of Lenin
And in the letter the only sadness that is killing me

Vodka is not raki though it affects tonight
My sadness is big, as big as Russia
I can't send love
Because love can not be sent
Neither I could bring your kisses with me

Train and wrinkled faces of passengers in it
You are somewhere there behind those mountains
Did you maybe fall asleep or you are awaken like I am
Are you bothered by unrests or nothing is bothering you

When you are reading the letter
Which I am writing
Secret will be hidden
Behind these lines