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“Cursed guitar is now singing, singing…”
(«Пой же, пой. На проклятой гитаре…», Есенин С.А. (РУС>>ENG)

Cursed guitar is now singing, singing,
All is dancing, my fingers and hands.
I just want to die out sinking,
You’re my last and my only friend.

Don’t you look at her magic wrists,
And at silk on her shoulders’ nude.
I had found with her only mists,
But I wanted to find the good.

I didn’t know, love’s infection,
I didn’t know, love is plague.
She came with her body’s flection,
Making hooligan mad and vague.

Sing and sing, and again and further
Of our early and wild years.
Let she kiss somebody another,
She is young and she’s pretty weird.

Oh, wait, I don’t want her to swear,
Oh, wait, I don’t want her to curse.
I will play to you, so and there,
On bas string of guitar, of course.

Here my quotidian dom is streaming,
And my dreams’ golden bag in my head.
In my life I caressed many women,
And so many I hugged in the bed.

Yes! There is bitter truth of the earth!
I had seen with my child’s eye
How bucks suck and lick with dearth,
That one bitch, who is juicy and ripe.

So, I shouldn’t be jealous of her.
So, why should I suffer so tough?
Life is bed and bedsheet, no more.
Life is just simple kiss and slough.

Sing and sing in this fatal cry,
This ridiculous heavily luck.
But, you know, I will never die,
Let them all to be gone to fuck!

(2021)