Andrei Voznesensky
The monologue of the beatnik

Rebellion of machines

Escape — to yourself, to republic of Haiti, to churches, to toilets,
                                                                                                   to Egypt —
Escape!

The heaps of machines roar and mew, smoke and fume, they are angry:
"We are hungry"

Dark machines, like Batus, have enslaved us:
"Mercedes!"

Their arrogant myrmidons,
Drinking from glass gasoline,
Figure out: whoever in England
Has started rebellion against the machine?
Let's flee! I'll join in!..

At night, overcoming its fear,
Robot says to inventor:
"My dear,

Give me your wife, if you can,
You know, I am fond of brunettes
I love her for all I am worth
So you had better give in!"

Oh, things most predacious of all!
The veto is put on the soul.
We flee to the hills and speak in our beards,

We jump into the water, naked,
But rivers get shallow, or
Fish die in the sea ever more.

Our women give birth to Rolls-Royces
Radiation rejoices!

...My souls is a little wild animal
Walking around back streets
Like a puppy with a piece of rope
You whine, run around and hop.

The time is now whistles nicely
Over fiery Tennessee
Sophisticated like Sirin
With the light-alloy chassis.

Translated by Alec Vagapov