"Look, Vanya, honey, at the funny clowns! That one, he’s got a mouth like a purse. Check out the geezer with the loopy flounce. A voice like he’s pissed, or something worse. "And that one’s like, but no, I mean it, Your brother-in-law, must drink as much. Come on, just watch, one tiny minute, I never seen such." "Now listen, Zina, leave my in-law out: Remember, he’s still our kith and kin. And for mouths, you watch your snout Instead, all right? Or I’ll bash it in. "Instead of carrying on, instead Of all that crap that you get off on, Go buy a bottle... No, you said? Move over, Zina, on the sofa." "Look, Vanya, at those dwarfs, real dorky! In real jerseys too, all foreign-spun. At the Fifth Sewing Plant, where I been working, They’d never think of sewing that for fun. "Your buddies, by the other way, Wear such crap, and always will, And always snarf from morning on Such awful swill." "My friends may lack your fancy labels, But they work hard to keep their families fed. Cheap swill perhaps, but more on staples; A.M. or P.M., they’ve got the bread "You, Zina, on the other hand, Your pal is was that guzzled gas, That tire-plant guy, he was your friend, Speaking of crass!" "Hey, Vany, parrots! Ever seen’em cuter? I knew the’d jum like this, I must be psychic, Who’s that in pink, must be a tutu, I want a little one just like it. "When bonuses are due, say, honey, Promise to get one, will you, hon? But why say ”No, it’s always money!“ You never let me have my fun." "I think you’d better shut your trap. This quarter’s bonus ain’t comin’. And why? Who wrote that crap To my employer? You’re the dummy! "As for this fashion-item piece, On you it would look cheap, and sordid. A yard of cloth you’d need, at least. So where can we afford it?" "Watch, Vanya, now the acrobats are starting! Those cartwheels, wow, the tall one with the hat! The other day, at our factory party, Comrade Satikov, he jumped around like that. "But you, you just come home and gobble Your food, then off to bed to snore. Or else you yell at me when sober. Well, Vanya, wanna hear more?" "You’re itching, Zina, for a bruising With them insults and your baiting. All day you lounge, no break refusing, Come home, and sit there watching. So the liquor store I go, Where with my pals I gather. For as for drinking on my own, That hardly happens ever."                                
© de Cate + Navrozov. Translation, 1995