The Landowner glares like a ferocious watchdog
The Kulak [rich peasant] snorts through his bulbous nose
The habitual drunk boozes his woes away
The [village] priest frantically whoops and and wails.
The corrupt journalist spits and hisses
The capitalist sharpens his tusks
The Menshevik rages like a madman
The White Soldier effs and blinds.
These dogs that have not been thrown into jail —
Everyone defending the bad old ways —
Put an evil curse on the Five-Year Plan
And declare war on it.
They threaten its disruption, realising
That it spells their utter ruination.
Помещик смотрит злым барбосом,
Кулак сопит бугристым носом,
Пьянчуга с горя пьет запоем,
Поп оголтелым воем воет,
Шипит продажный журналист,
Острит клыки капиталист,
Меньшивичок вовсю ярится,
Вояка белый матерится, —
Псы не посаженные в клетку,
Все кто стоит за старину,
Зло проклинают пятилетку
И объявляют ей войну,
Грозят ей срывом понимая,
Что в ней — погибель их прямая!
«Many things want my voice to praise them, / Many things rumble, seemingly speechless; / Or they gnaw at rocks underground in the dark, / Or they show up in a circle of smoke, / But because I’ve not settled my score / With wind, water, and fire, / Sleepless nights can suddenly take me ...»
«Let’s sit down close by, darling, / Let your eyes encounter mine. / I would like to feel my heart wheel / To the meekness of your eyes. Both this lavish gold of autumn / And the blondish of a hair tress – / Every little thing has cropped in / To relieve a restless scapegrace. I ...»
«I love God’s wrath, this Evil! / Invisible, mysterious, poured through everything: / in the flowers, in the glass-clear stream, / in the rainbow-rays, in the very sky of Rome. / The same high, cloudless sky, / your breast's same sweet breath, / the same warm wind rustling tree-to...»
«We'll depart this world for ever, surely, / To repose in peace and quite. Oh, my Lord! / Maybe, I shall also have to duly / Pack my things preparing for the road. / / Oh, my birch-tree woods! Amazing pictures! / Oh, my dear land! My sandy plains! / In the face of crowds of mortal crea...»