He was born without title or great height Not for fame, not for pay growing higher - In his own odd way that would serve He walked along life in the limelight On a wire, on a wire, Tight and taut as a nerve. Look, there’s no safety net Stretched beneath him this run. Just a tilt to the left - He is lost, he is gone... Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today. But stay calm, he somehow Needs to cross without delay Four full quarters of the way.
                         
And the beams beat at him from below And like laurels, piercing, lashing... And the trumpets in fanfare strained. He was deafened by shouts "Bravo!" And the cymbals, crashing, crashing Like a club through his brain. Look, there’s no safety net Stretched beneath him, below. Just a tilt to the left - He is lost, he will go... Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today. But stay calm, he now Needs to cross without delay Just three quarters of the way. "Oh, how frightening, how brave, how pretty!" Their mouths agape without sound; "Three minutes of dancing with death!" From his height, a lilliputian city All around, all around Stared up, mournfully holding their breath. Look, there’s no safety net Stretched beneath him this run Just a tilt to the left - He is lost, he is gone... Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today. But stay calm, he now Needs to cross without delay Only two quarters of the way. He had laughed at transient glory But first place was his only desire - Try and bury a man with such drive! Above the ring, transitory, On our nerves, on our nerves, not on wire, He walked, to the drumbeat of lives. Look, there’s no safety net Stretched beneath him this run. Just a tilt to the left - He is lost, he is gone... Just a tilt to the right - No surviving today. But stay calm, for now He has left, today, Only a quarter of the way! And the beasts, at the ringmaster’s yelling Put their paws on the gurney... But the sentence is final and dread: Was he lost, or too sure, now no telling But his journey, but his journey... His chagrin - spills on sawdust blood-red. And there’s no safety net Beneath another, this run Underneath him, a thread - He will fall, he is gone! A degree left or right - No surviving today. But stay calm, he too somehow Needs to cross without delay Four full quarters of the way.
© Tamara Vardomskaya. Translation, ?