The day after Friday is free for so many things,
your kettle is boiling, your morning begins,
you're almost awake and determined to start your day,
and any endeavor will surely end up with "hurray!"

Your instant coffee with some no-fat cream
is perfectly tasteless - a health freak's dream,
you tofu sausage is trying so hard to seem real -
this breakfast, buddy, is part of your Saturday deal.

You are reading a note from your wonderful spouse:
do some grocery shopping after cleaning the house,
and meet somebody somewhere taking something to them,
and report on your progress no later than 7pm.


    There is no day when you are not pushing yourself to run and run,
    and so afraid to be late again, you are laughing without a bit of fun.

You buy the groceries, you drive them home,
you unload the trunk, you grab the phone,
you call and you talk, you repeat being firm but polite,
you try to stay calm and even never appear to bite.

And here's some more of today's distractions,
your folks are calling with some new instructions -
the morning list from you wife was apparently short,
your day's getting longer becoming a matter of sport.


    There may be days when you reach a limit or even two,
    and then, of course, you recall the day with so little time for so much to do.

You caught by the night only half way through
the list of the things you were planning to do,
you're sitting exhausted and whispering something obscene,
completely fed up with what's commonly known as routine.

The day before Sunday is laughing at you -
of course, it will leave you with so much to do,
but that is no reason for weeping your evening away,
you still have it coming - another beautiful day.

=== Eugene Borovikov - 1994, translation - 2009 ===