Victor Sklyarov

Box

(translation from Russian poem of Natalia Nikiforova)

Came up referee and proclaimed
“Shake your hands” and the bout commenced
At me fiercely my rival aimed
I’d been measured and all assessed.

I’m alert and a little strained
But my back hits the rim of rope,
I miss hook, mouthshield flies astray,
Just hold on – I’m still on-the-go!

Taste of blood, angry trainer’s shouts,
I won’t fall, I am springing back,
And ahead I move in a bout
Concentrating will in a knack.

My contestant has puzzled air,
I just noticed fault in defense,
Now the chances are almost fair
And the bout may really commence.

Counterblow is strong, he is snapped,
He staggers on rubbery legs
With his breath coming out in pants
And the strength in the topmost peg.

My second hit’s sharp and exact,
And knocks out my enemy’s will.
Bout’s over! And life is correct!
At the ring I am standing still.

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 13, 2011

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Comments about Box by Victor Sklyarov

  • Unwritten SoulUnwritten Soul (9/28/2011 12:15:00 AM)

    Glad you translate this, it such amazing feeling to fight all things that tear us down...the way you translate maybe justice for this poem or maybe special...i feel good to read this and you bring it out! Thanks for sharing...
    Break the box to feel free :) Unwritten Soul

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