Agniya Barto
The Swings

The green rustling leaves
In the soft breeze were playing:
The swings on the oak-tree
Were swinging and swaying.

From breakfast till lunch,
Till the rest-bell went ringing,
The kids of the First Class
Kept swinging and swinging.

The turn of the Third Class
And Sixth Class came then,
And next came the turn
Of the First Class again.

Now upwards, now downwards
The swings go a-flying,
And troop-leader Klava
Looks on, deeply sighing.

She says that she really
Cannot comprehend
How people can swing so
For hours without end.

Upwards, and downwards,
And up to the sky...
One’s head can grow dizzy
From swinging so high!

After each kiddy
Was well tucked in bed,
Off to the swings,
In the park, Klava sped.
Klava’s at peace:
Fast asleep is each kiddy;
She, if she pleases,
Can swing till she’s giddy.

Anna Petrovna,
The troop-leaders’ chief,
Called Klava that evening
And said, “Now, look here!

Your troop is undisciplined
Past all belief!
Don’t waste so much time
On the swings, Klava dear.”

As soon as the leaders
Were all gone to bed,

Anna Petrovna
Towards the oak sped.
She’s in the Tenth Class,
And very well may
Play on the swings
Till the end of the day.

The evening is lovely —
Indoors it’s so stifling! —
Aunt Mary strolled out
In the park, where it’s cool.
Aunt Mary’s our nurse,
And with her, there’s no trifling,
For this year she finished
The medical school.

She came up to Anna
Petrovna, and read
A lecture to her.
“On vacation,” she said,
“Take care of your health.
Now relax — go to bed!”

Anna blushed red
At her nurse’s
Stern lecture, and went
Off to bed, with a sigh.

Aunt Mary... She’s swinging.
The evening breeze whispers,
The swings, they are winging
Up, up, to the sky.

Translated by Louis Zelikoff