Checkmate! -5 Fight for love

Поэтический перевод произведения «Шах и Мат! - 5. Бой за любовь»,
автор исходника на русском языке – [Сергей Плотников]

He hit the grass; both pain and fear surpassed,
The monk-like wind was singing of the past.
He closed his eyes, but saw it all around:
Four foemen shadows; friends aren't to be found.
One mined the bodies of the guys killed dead,
Who managed to relay the woeful sound.
The other tore their garments off instead,
And fumbled their pockets on the ground.

The third one, like a hoary, spiteful god,
Was standing like a heavy hell aboard.
The handheld heavy hell shook like an odd,
And every clicking verdict-like was heard.
But Checkmate crawled, there twenty meters left,
The looter came this wheeler to explore.
The heart from beating was by winds bereft,
When he was standing at the rear door.

The door swung open! Wheezing and dream-like,
In crimson blood, but yet she’s to the fore,
Our Lada lunged at them with deadly strike,
In latest rage she thundered from her core!
Her fangs the first foe’s throat like grim death caught,
The second one, who set the mines abreast,
Fell on his very dreadful, hellish spot,
The blastoff tore to rags this hellish nest.

But Checkmate flew so far, a storm-like chap,
To wheeler where the hulk tied up the lead,
He leaped and bit the arm with deadfall’s snap,
So that the shot won’t leave his Lada dead.
The shot rang out! That was a sissy’s blow,
The petty driver hit the Checkmate’s hip,
And Checkmate dashed to that hulk in one go,
Kicked down the one and went his guts to rip.

The driver’s out, and Checkmate promptly bit.
A bolt-like leap and clang of metal teeth,
Two shots were heard, the groin was almost hit,
But Checkmate’s got him by the neck beneath.
The blinded hulk shot rounds to the void,
Where groans were heard, but hit one of his kind,
Checkmate and Lada, frenzy to avoid,
With their fangs they hands of his confined.

And out in the skies, as Grace of God,
A chopper with a friendly face aboard!
That Kilroy-Bowl from whom “Checkmate” was heard –
A name in triumph was his first reward.
He came to Lada, licked her head at will,
And then, still limping, he approached his breed.
The dad’s top duty managed to fulfil,
By making enemies to frigid garbage bleed.
And hearts thereof were beating back as one –
Three sons, a girlie. And one injured quite,
He overcame. The rising sun he won,
But up ahead he had another fight.