I hadnít struck a woman before age seventeen, At seventeen, hit for the first time, Nowadays, I get no respite - To the left, to the right, I am giving them tips. How could it have happened that an intellectual, An opponent of domestic violence, So lowly fell, and at that very moment If you will, Besmirched myself? This is what happened: I hadnít cheated on her For three days not once, honest to goodness! What can I say, I bought her perfume, French, oh my brothers, For 34 rubles. However, she had a clerk from the TZh, His name was Golubev Slava, He already gave her this perfume - To the left, to the right, My ladyfriend was grinning. I was so young, so hot-blooded was I, Expressed all my grievances briefly, I said, "I strangled Slava last night. Today, oh my swallow, Iíll strangle you just as well." My hands were a-trembling as I came close by, My teeth clattering Le Marseillaise, The unwieldy tongue stuck to my palate - From the left, from the right I considerably smacked her. Nowadays all the ladies are afraid of me, And this pains me, honest to goodness. Thus, a day doesnít pass when I donít Hit them painfully and strongly, But you canít hit them all - there are too many.
         
© Ilya Vinarsky. Translation, ?