Our life is a game (Миронов, Белеет мой парус)

Двенадцать Стульев (1976). English translation is courtesy of Edward Leitman, http://stihi.ru/2009/05/29/6528. Nope, I'm not sobbing, not even crying. To all the questions I am openly replying. The life is just a play and who's at fault for that, That I am making such a heavy bet? And why should I seek for more excuses To take an offer no one's usually refuses. A why my talent, heat of heart should be ignored? - They do deserve a valuable reward. Let wind to get mad all around At sea of a daily routine. I'm sailing the planet alone and unbound Amid of the ships made of steel. Don't you agree, folks, that just a crackpot Can get damn lucky so to hit the hunted jackpot? An eagle gaze, strong drive, and twist in artful route Will let you get to a forbidden fruit. Walks on the wild side are such a pleasure. Watch me, the angels, right away enjoy and treasure. The scrutiny of my sins leave for another time. Change view of me in seconds on a dime. Let wind ravage fiercly around The sea where ennui under keel. I'm sailing the planet alone and unbound Amid of the ships made of steel. I'm not a robber, nor an apostle. Sometimes I'm capable to go kind of postal. It's not unlikely though as a result of stress I might retire earlier than rest. But I'm not sobbing, not even crying. Into the deeds of fortune I persist on prying Alas, it's probable the fate will not be kind, And I will lose much more than I could find.