Sasha Chorny
A Kreutzer sonata

The tenant sits upon his case,
Abstractedly regards the floor,
The same old table, bed, and chair,
The old upholstery the same old place,
The same ragout on the plate. But despite
All this, everything wears a strange new light.

Daisy's thick calves gleam enticingly,
Her buxom figure bends amid the washing lines,
As she washes them, the windows squeak
Like a chorus of squalling kids
And patches of blue amid the sky
Promise miraculous delights.

The tenant sits upon his case,
His books in heaps across the floor,
The angry windows scream, "You ass!"
And through his pockets he looks once more,
Revealing a much-eroded quarter,
A key, some sealing wax, a dime...

The wall beyond the window has patterned damp
And fifty rustling chimneys pierce the sky;
While in the Crimea the almonds are in bloom,
The spring breeze here's entangled in the shutters
And cannot find its way out again.
He's going to spend the quarter on vodka or on rye
And drink to make the cold sky feel hot.

Now the window washing's finished, everything falls quiet,
Daisy, don't be silent, Daisy, give voice to your desire,
Be decisive now, before he drinks his shot
And grab him while you can. Set his heart ariot
And set his springtide lips on fire.

The tenant's on the sofa alongside Fanny's thighs,
Oh, what bliss! And what conquering caresses!
The tenant murmurs, gazing deep into her eyes,
"I'm an intellectual, and you are from the masses;
Here and now, with just us two together,
At last we'll understand each other."

Translated by Bernard Meares