A blow, a blow... another blow... Again a blow - and see Boris Butkeyev (Krasnodar) Carried out an uppercut. There he pressed me into the corner, Where I scarcely missed being hit, See an uppercut - I am on the floor, I am not feeling well. I thought Butkeyev smashed my jaw: And life is good, and life is good! At the counting to "seven" Iím still lying - My countrymen sob. I stand up, dive, stretch - And I get points. Thatsís not true, it seems like I am Keeping my strength back till the end, - To beat a man into the face I couldnít do since childhood. I thought Butkeyev smashed my ribs: And life is good, and life is good! On the tribune they whistle, on the tribune they howl: "Get at him, he is a coward!" Butkeyev forced me to a close combat - And I pressed against the ropes. But he cucceeded - he is a Sibirian, They are persistent, And I told him: "Freak! You are tired however - get a rest!" But he did not listen - he breathed, That to live is good, that life is good. And he beat on and on - healthy devil! - I see: there will be a calamity. Boxing nevertheless is not a row, itís a sport For the courageous and so on. He hit again, twice, thrice - I... am lacking in strength, The referee raised my hand, With which I did not beat. He lay and thought - that life is good. For some it is good, and for some - damn all.
© Elisabeth Jelinek. Translation, 2018