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The Tom (The Turkey)
Translated from Russian by Anne Becker and Leonid Margolis)
From the dawn of my unfaithful memories,
I recollect a dappled meadow
Where reigned a haughty Tom
Whom I adored.
Independence and rage were in him;
His beak was as scarlet as flame;
And because I was four years old,
He roundly despised me.
Neither chocolate nor caramels,
Nor pineapple soda,
Could console me
For the knowledge of my shame.
Today a great anguish returns,
With the humiliation and grief of my early years,
When you, my adored, cruel,
Proudly deny me.
But everything passes in this fluid life,
Love will pass, sorrow will pass,
And I will recall you with a smile
As I recall the turkey.
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