Once we possessed a red balloon
We filled it up with smoke
Forgetting, what we'd learn too soon:
A red balloon's no joke!
It slipped our grasp and struggled free
Then headed for the sky
But got snagged in a maple tree
The tallest one nearby
We shook the tree to knock it down
And soon our hands were raw
Until some genius went to town
And brought us back a saw.
We sawed that tree for half the day
Expecting it to fall
But red balloons do not obey:
It shot up tree and all
Up through the clouds we watched it go
Defying Newton's law
While we, abandoned, stood below
Still clutching that fool saw.
Translated from the Russian by Lydia Razran Stone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem