There is ice on the earth, all iced up, For a year at the time, all year long. There’s no spring and no summer in sight, The whole planet is shrouded in white, People fall on the ice all along. Even if someone circles the globe Without touching our planet just once, Soon or later he’s going to fall On the surface that is covered with ice, And the boots will then trample him fast. Only ice, like a mirror, black ice, But it’s not like a kids’ skating rink. There a beast might be able to pass... All iced up! And a biped now stands, Like a beast using all of his limbs.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2022