With high titles he was never crowned, Hitting big times never hoped, An unusual manner he gained - He would stubbornly walk off the ground On the rope, on the rope Which like a nerve was strained. Look! He’s facing a fall - On the cord he’s again! Not protected at all, Is he sane or insane? Just the tiniest swerve - and aground he’ll be thrust, But there must be a reason why he needs to pass The full four quarters of the path!
                         
Over the spotlights he tripped on his bouts, Rays were prickly, sharp and nimble, And the trumpet was wailing like mad... He was deafened by whistles and shouts, And the cymbals, and the cymbals Smashed like an ax on his head. Look! He’s facing a fall - On the cord he’s again! Not protected at all, Is he sane or insane? Just the tiniest swerve - he’ll flop down in the dust... But cool off, ‘cause by now he has just to pass But three shaky quarters of this path! “It’s so thrilling, breath-taking, exciting!” - Folks stopped fidgeting and pushing, Craned their necks, opened wide their eyes. For three minutes against death he’s fighting... “Lilliputians, Lilliputians”, - He thought looking down on those guys. Look! He’s facing a fall - On the cord he’s again! Not protected at all, Is he sane or insane? Just the tiniest swerve - and aground he’ll be thrust... But be quiet! Since now he’s just got to pass But two shaky quarters of this path! In his life to nobody he bowed, And at fame he was just mocking, And he feared no blows, no bumps... Not on cords but on nerves of the crowd He was walking, he was walking Whipped by the roll of the drums. Look! He’s facing a fall - On the cord he’s again! Not protected at all, Is he sane or insane? Just the tiniest swerve - he’ll flop down in the dust... But keep silence! By now he has just to pass The final quarter of the path! A shriek of horror the circus let out, Started fussing useless doctors; His ambitions were nipped in the bud... Was he stout or was he a lout - But on sawdust, down on sawdust He shed his frustration and blood! Yet today a new man On the chord walks again, Unprotected, he can Fall as well. He’s insane! Just the tiniest swerve - and aground he’ll be thrust... But there must be a reason why he needs to pass The full four quarters of the path!
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2001
Edited by Robert Titterton