Ballade of Poor Digestion

Âëàäèìèð Äåìûêèí
             

I’m not a heavy eater -
                not at all;
Just the reverse -
I keep a simple diet
Of beer, 
        a slice of veal
                and a Swiss roll -
To spare my dear stomach 
                feeling tired…
I could, for certain,
                eat a humble pie -
I could, of course, - 
                but should I? -
That’s the question!..
           I’d eat my boots,
           my head,
           my kibosh,
           my –   

But this does not agree
               with my digestion.


I’m not an eager climber of a wall
To leadership,
               career,
                cetera et…
I know
       it rhymes well 
                with a Great Fall -
Where there is
              a rule,
         there is
               a riot…
I could, for real,
                raise my DPI -
I could indeed,
                but ought I? -
        That’s the question!..
I’d even rise to be
              a Deep-U-Tie!.. -

But this does not agree 
               with my digestion.


I’m not an actor at a fancy ball
Where puppets in disguise
                sell for 
                and buy at -
    Body and Soul, 
          Life and Love 
                and all; 
    Few are to hire,
          many - to be hired…
I could, for sure,
              be a sleaze,
                a spy… -
I could, I bet! - 
                but would I? -
        That’s the question!..
I would be 
         a stool-pigeon -
                why won’t I?! -

But this does not agree
               with my digestion.



ENVOI


Prince,
     you expect to travel
                to empy -
  rean;
         but will you truly? - 
   That’s the question!..

To plug your leaky throne
              I’d give my eye -

  But this does not agree
                with my digestion.