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Bedpan
An enamel bedpan
A window, a nightstand, a bed
To live is difficult and not warm
However there’s warmth in dying
An enamel bedpan
A window, a nightstand, a bed
To live is difficult and not warm
However there’s warmth in dying
And the quiet dripping from the faucet
And life is tattered like a whore
To come out from what’s like a fog
And seeing the nightstand, the bed
And I’m trying to rise
Wanting to gaze into her (life’s) eyes
To glance upon the eyes and burst into tears
And to never die
To never die
To never die
To never die
To never die
An enamel bedpan
A window, a nightstand, a bed
To live is difficult and not warm
However there’s warmth in dying
An enamel bedpan
A window, a nightstand, a bed
To live is difficult and not warm
However there’s warmth in dying
Submitted by 
drinkingforever on 2025-07-28
drinkingforever on 2025-07-28Subtitles created by 
𝟕𝐭𝐡𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 on Sun, 29/12/2024 - 14:42
𝟕𝐭𝐡𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 on Sun, 29/12/2024 - 14:42Subtitles edited by
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Translations of "Судно (Sudno)"
Comments
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Stand With Ukraine!
About translator
Though this poem is about laying in a hospital bed and not an apartment, I believe it was Boris (the poet) whom was the patient.
He eventually killed himself but it’s more believable that he didn’t write this about a random hospice story, but rather wrote this poem after a suicide attempt, hence the “coming out of the fog and seeing a nightstand and a bed.”
I also interpret “в глаза ей” as “into her eyes” with жизнь (a feminine noun) being mentioned earlier. I think that part is how he was wanting to embrace life therefore not die, but at the end of his life, killed himself thus re-entering the fog permanently.