Out of power, with all of my tendons. But my next day like yesterday looms: They surround me, with dogs in attendance, And they chase me with joy to the rooms. From the pines double-barrels are popping, There the hunters are hiding in shade. On the snow, wolves are tumbling and dropping - Living targets, confined and afraid. There is a hunting for the wolves. There is a hunting. They’re hunting predators: matures and little cubs. Screams of the hunters, burping sounds of dogs confronting, Blood on the snow, red spots of flags among the stumps. Not as equals the jaegers are playing With the wolves, but the hand never shakes. Flaggin’ off our freedom, they’re preying, Shooting confidently - no mistakes. Wolves are not into breaking traditions. Since their puppyhood they’ve been endowed With a rule that in any conditions Running over the flags not allowed. There is a hunting for the wolves. There is a hunting. They’re hunting predators: matures and little cubs. Screams of the hunters, burping sounds of dogs confronting, Blood on the snow, red spots of flags among the stumps. Paws and jaws are as quick as a lightning. Why you leader still make me a fool? Running up to the fire is frightening, Never trying to break up the rule! For the wolf, laws are not to protest them. Time is over, my mission is done. And the hunter to whom I’m predestined, He is smiling and raising his gun. There is a hunting for the wolves. There is a hunting. They’re hunting predators: matures and little cubs. Screams of the hunters, burping sounds of dogs confronting, Blood on the snow, red spots of flags among the stumps. I’m entirely out of submissions, Out of flags - ’cause my life is the prize. And I hear from the hunters’ positions The unlimited shouts of surprise. Out of power, with all of my tendons. But today is like never before: They surround me, with dogs in attendance, But I am not their prey anymore. There is a hunting for the wolves. There is a hunting. They’re hunting predators: matures and little cubs. Screams of the hunters, burping sounds of dogs confronting, Blood on the snow, red spots of flags among the stumps.
© Maxim Kushanov. Translation, 2021