Semen Kirsanov, 1974
Dance skiers
Dancing skiers, dancing strangely,
Dance in a narrow hall of the restaurant,
concentrated, with a serious view
in front of the window with a high mountain view
Dance, turning legs,
How to go up, climbing the sangs,
Putting over the air boots
Under the sharp melody of the plate.
Their girls skated by Rumba
They pressed to sweaters from coarse wool.
They hang in powerful necks,
closing the eyes as if they were saved,
As if in slow dance legs
For life I would like to stay,
But all the moves are moved, the loudshots,
With the face of saving and strict.
In the tightness of the pants on the straight figures,
lie their hands on alpine jackets,
on their lying backpacks
Out of heraldic signs.
Canada, Tyrol, and Davos
Dance in the town among driving.
And on simple and puritan dance
A stranger looks at the bar.
From the snow who arrived in Russia
He looked like a simple
Movement and arms, which
Do not know in the northern expanses.
Dance skiers, dancing in the lobby,
In Dobbiako, in Dolomites Tyrol.
Dancing skiers, dancing strangely,
Dance in a narrow restaurant hall.
Dancing skiers, dancing strangely,
Dance in a narrow hall of the restaurant,
concentrated, with a serious view
In front of the window with a high mountain view.
