Bang! bang! Once more, bang! Again, bang! And then Boris Budkeev (Krasnodar) Gives me the old one-two. Then he gets me into a corner, And I just barely get out, Then the old one-two and I’m On the floor feeling bad. And Budkeev thought, while shattering my jaw: "It’s good to live and life is good!" At the count of seven, I’m still lying there. The local fans are moaning. I get up, lunge, dance back - Glasses would look good on me. Not true, as if I’m saving up For the end. Since childhood I’ve been unable to beat somebody’s face in! But Budkeev thought, shattering my ribs: "It’s good to live and life is good!" In the stands, they whistle and howl: "Get him! He’s yellow!" Budkeev closes in, And I press back on the ropes. But he gets through, he’s Siberian - An insistent and nasty lot. And I say to him: "You character! You’re probably tired, so rest!" But he didn’t hear me. He was thinking: "It’s good to live and life is good!" And he keeps on hitting... tough devil! I see there’s going to be trouble. True, boxing is not brawling-it’s a sport Of the brave, and so on... So he hits me one, two, three And runs out of strength. The ref raises my hand, The one I didn’t use in the fight. Budkeev lay there thinking life is good... Good for some, for others a bunch of crap!
© H. William Tjalsma. Translation, 1982