The punch! The punch! Again the punch! One more punch! What the heck! Boris Butkeyev (Krasnodar) Is going to attack. He shoved me in the corner, I almost moved my head, But he attacked - I’m on the floor, And I am feeling bad. And Butkeyev thought while hitting my gums: It’s good to live, and life’s also good. The count is "seven," I’m on the floor, The countrymen are in tears. I get up, dive, try to escape - And points are going to me. Isn’t it true, I’m saving my strength Until the end of the game? I’m not used to hitting people Since childhood. What a shame! But Butkeyev thought while crushing my ribs: That it’s perfect to live, and life’s also good. Whistles among the judges: "Get him, he’s a coward!" No hopes. Butkeyev goes into a close fight, I’m pressing against the ropes. But he got through, he’s Siberian, They’re stubborn while they hit. And I told him: "Listen, fool, You’re tired, rest a bit." But he didn’t listen, he breathed all the way: It’s perfekt to live, and life’s also good. And he’s beating out my brains! The trouble is in sight. Boxing is a sport for the valiant, It isn’t just a fight. He hit me once, twice, three times, And lost all of his strength. The referee raised my other arm, With which I didn’t hit. He lay on the floor, thinking life is so good. To some it is good, but to some it is crude.
© Nathan Mer. Translation, 1991