On the cruiser

On the cruiser
Mister Tweed -
Cheeks of pinkish shade;
Looking neat,
Fresh, and lank in shape.
He's moustached -
An inky tick of paint;
In his hand
He swings a cheeky cane.

Mister Leo
Opposite his side,
Yawns his jaws
of golden-teeth; and stripes,
Rudely prickles
With his eye, and stings
Those who occupy
The table's ring.
 
Mister Pooh,
With Queen of spades outboard -
Thick as two;
She comes as an escort.
Their imperatives
Differ by wallet's weight,
But the depth of racing
Balances it straight.

Mister John and Mrs. Sarah Ostin
Dull as like
The grey of pools’
In autumn.
Mister Smith,
Is also any good -
The charm's been hit
By blandness of his suit.

Mister Boss -
Fist like of a boxer,
Frowns his nose,
As a dog who sniffed some toxin.
He is bald -
A fainted hairy flock;
Rather short,
And has a husky talk.

Mister Mars -
Forelock of a youngster -
Spider chips and farce -
One clever bustard.
Foxy tail
That under skin was welded.
Looking plain,
And easy to be handled.

          * * *

Mister Mars - Ares on the top!
Major win in the current term.
Mars is shrewd - a tease in the backstreets
Of the cards, and ace in other twists;
From the wideness of his freckled grin,
Watches others struggling to win,
Noticing the chances and the faults -
Most of all their cards he's managed to unfold...

Miss Marta's only one who sighs.
She doesn't care which card applies.
She isn't keen about the game -
She's got a harder task to gain:
"Oh, why she hasn't sat nearby?!"
"Who is that lightly red-haired guy?!"
"Traits of a fox his stare embraces" -
But then she flees to other faces.

        * * *

Twid has been crushed, and Leo is rough.
Mars is rejoicing - such fortunate bluff!
Mr. Pooh grunts like a dog on its guard,
All of a sudden Spades looks so alarmed.
Ostins and Smiths are out of the game,
And Mr. Boss is watchfully strained.

- Awesome deceit -
And the Red planet!
The foe's at his feet,
He won, he has done it!

          *  *  *
As he ignores her loose shoulder-strap,
He pulls a flower of love out of the vase, 
And puts it the pocket of his getup,
While his right hand rakes all of the stakes.
He grants a stealthy smile to the girl,
His pockets clinking with the treasure.
Not glancing back in silence leaves the hall,
In freedom of the deck to take his leisure.



19.01.16  (self-translated from Russian)