De dodenrit

We ride with the troika through the endless woods
It's about thirty degrees below, winter's here and it's cold
The horse hooves crunch in the fresh-fallen snow
It's evening in Siberia, and there’s not a lion in sight

We're traveling with the kids, though they’re still quite young
Through the endless woods I just sang about, so long
A shady and very confusing terrain
Where folks are happy there are no lions to feign

We're on our way to Omsk, but the road is long
So we fill the time with festive song
Meanwhile, something stirs in the background:
Something dark and numerous, and it feels unsound

They're still quite far behind us, but I can see them well
It's a huge crowd and they're moving pretty swell
And by chasing us down, they’re closing in
Which could turn out bad for a young family’s kin

The dark figures are particularly quick on their feet
They run on four legs, and they look pretty mean
They’ve got big teeth, that’s clear to see
They’re probably wolves, and nasty as can be

Though the situation's dire, I don’t panic at all
I keep my spirits up with some folk music's call
We know our songs and we sing quite a lot
While the wolves come closer at a steady trot

It’s just a hundred versts left to Omsk from here
It’s nice the horses were refreshed just this year
Too bad the wolves have caught up with our pace
You can see the hunger shining in their face

We act carefree and keep singing along
But something’s gotta happen under mom’s umbrella strong
And without making a fuss, I talk to my wife
"Who’s gonna take the hit?" I say, "Come on, think fast, no strife"

"Should it be Igor?" "No, he plays the violin"
"What about Natasja?" "But she’s doing so well in school!"
"And Sonja then?" "No, not Sonja, she’s got a lovely alto"
So in the end, we settle on little Pjotr, though

So under the singing, I grab the little guy
Out he flies from the troika with a creepy cry
The wolves are all focused on that tasty treat
Eighty-four versts left, oh, what a joy we meet

We can thank Pjotr for his edibility
'Cause that way we’re rid of that pack temporarily
So we keep on racing like in a dreadful dream
Ajo ajo ajo, all in that tall clapper tree

There’s that howling again, and our hope is torn apart
The wolves are back, and now it’s Sonja’s turn to depart
There goes the poor child, she was so cheerful and sweet
Sixty-eight versts left, and in The Hague lives a count, neat

I’m still pondering, while my wife sheds many a tear
And look, the wolves are coming up behind us here
So Igor, it’s a shame, but you won’t be a virtuoso
Fifty-two versts left, and there was a girl just so

Now that Igor’s gone, we have a moment of peace
But no, here come the wolves again, hungry for a feast
Natasja’s death cry cuts us painfully through the soul
Thirty-six versts left, and in a blue-checked shawl

My wife and I are done for, so we sing a duet
And if luck’s on our side, we might just make it yet
Unfortunately, I have to give her up to the hungry pack
Now just twenty versts left, and Howperdepoep sat on the track

I’m singing a bit cheerier now, 'cause Omsk’s in sight
I leap for joy and lose my balance in flight
As the wolves devour me, I think, "What a bummer
Yeah, Omsk is a lovely city, but just a bit too far, oh summer"