Pray tell me, how can I not be afraid of flying When my dear boss, I.B.Izotov, Aiming to sympathize, pricks like a needle. "Oh, you poor guy", - he says "Even them, in Chicago, Had a catastrophe three days ago." Should have spat: we are all brothers, right? And there are two us, and not on the safe side, either. But the devil knows I am all for ventures Readily off - anyhow, anywhere and on anything. No, I am not afraid, a bit tipsy, that is. And, so I would walk steadily on the ladder, I train myself while still on earth Having tightened my belt properly. But, thank God, I am not flying off - Beguiling the time in the airport Together with a lad, a blood brother. We drink the seventh glass this day For the thought that all of us will land And hopefully where we intended to. So what if there is no carry-out in the restaurant The radio is silent there - itís a heaven. A concierge will run in and roar: "Who goes to Vilnius?.. Itís O.K., continue drinking!" Flying for me is like sharp knife, a noose Canít eat, canít drink, canít smoke. Plus, for further safety of mine I ought to buckle myself up nicely. Near the automated teller-it has a heck of a mind! I stand, smiling dumbly: The teller has answered me in such terms! Unbelievably: here in Yeisk Almost in European style: Exists a freedom of speech - if itís profanity. My smart friend started to climb the walls at noon - They are calling in the SWAT team He bent the screws of IL-18 And demanded a parachute on the spot. I tried to reason with the chap: Pasha, Pashenka, Pasha, Pashut! If we a drink a bit more What good would the chute be, for Peteís sake? He explained - his kind donít lie He flew one time, not buckled up Suddenly - explosion! But he was ready: Found a loophole even here - Spread his padded jacket And landed in a flower-bed. We were flabbergasted! Here all is postponed, and not in vain - All flights for the last couple weeks For tomorrow - the thirty third of December. I am going out of mind for nothing I am stressing out for nothing, in general. If something extraordinary happens in the air I will just land on my Chinese raincoat! But feeling rather troubled I remembered coming here without one, - Oh, Kate! This blow of yours was such a pain... Two neighbors did thrust in the bags with all the food But the bags surely will let in air... Was it my flight they called? I wouldnít have stood up - Now you canít lift me. I hear: "Passengers for November! Your flight is put off until May!" I am twitching for nothing: Yeisk isnít Beirut The passengers here are as calm as the lambs, They donít take terrorists on flights And all the defects will be gone by the spring. Call me what you will But I would fly by Aeroflot even there: There itís a quick good-bye and to the sky Whether you want it or not.. But here - sit and sun yourself For there is always a delay - You will be spared at least a day... We ordered punch and turkey skin - urgh! Now we scurry in the dark for the bathroom. The accommodations are outside, despite December And the New Year flies by on TU. My friend drunkenly swears by his honor That he will remove all and everyone, if needed "How is it", - he says - "that the whole country Never flies anywhere?!" At that very moment somewhere in Krasnoyarsk Sprawled prettily on a tiled floor Not at all grieving about the delay Spends his third day With champagne in the bathroom The very New Year and drinks to himself! Stirring in his glass with a smoked herring - So the gas would come out - he vomits from gas He sits merrily in the airport building And waits for a new year to come. But the flight in Khabarovsk is canceled - There, a plane is reliably stuck - Thatís why no new times Come to our city...
© Nellie Tkach. Translation, ?