The first third was not annoying;
Two decades were spent enjoying
all the niceties.
I lived well and was no servant;
I’ve been drifting with the current,
absentmindedly.

Life was anything but struggle,
You don’t need to row or paddle,
and your palms don’t hurt.
Hornets, gadflies, gnats, and others
Tried to get me, the bloodsuckers: 
it was all for naught.

From the shore, the cries were reaching,
help and rescue they were preaching - 
shook my confidence.
They did not succeed, poor fellas, 
I was lying, drunk and careless,
in unconsciousness.

And regardless of what happens -
whether it’s the swirls or rapids,
it will be okay.
Taking off my shoes - perfection - 
I admire my reflection
in the stream all day.

As the shoreline leaves the boat,
I caress my thirsty throat:
mead flows tenderly. 
After one excessive swallow
I perceive I’m being followed
by an elderly.

And while I was comprehending,
fog rolled in; I found me standing
in a deadly place.
Towering above the water, 
the old woman burst with laughter
right into my face.

I can’t string two words together - 
To escape! Go hell-for-leather!
I’m all set to run.
Shaking, swaying like a dancer... 
"Who is there?" I hear the answer:
"I’m the Wretched One!

"Prayers to the Virgin Mary 
will not help you, if you’re scared,
no evading this. 
He who throws away his paddles 
raises his good fortune’s hackles - 
That’s the way it is!"

In the dark, I seek a passage,
sipping mead to my advantage - 
quite unsteadily.
She, however, is not sleepy:
I can hear her footsteps creeping 
just ahead of me.

Next, she kicks a root and stumbles;
So obese, it poses trouble
with velocity.
Short of breath and looking wretched,
she continues where she headed - 
a monstrosity!

Suddenly, one more came running:
The limp-legged, crooked, and cunning.
Is she raving too?
There, she screams, "I see you’re breathing,
Standing over the abysm,
But I’m saving you!"

She is asked, instead of looked at:
"Who are you?" "Well, I’m the Crooked.
good at gossiping.
Even though I’m crooked-legged,
crooked-eyed, and crooked-handed,
I’m quite promising!"

"Guide me out, you crooked mother!"
I exclaimed, after another.
"I’m your refugee!
I will share my mead drink potion,
I’ll correct your strange distortion,
Just please rescue me!

"As for you, old hussy’s daughter,
have a sip of mead with water,
you’re too jittery.
Let me be for just a moment,
to avoid your fleshy torment,
all the misery."

Two old women drank and wobbled,
falling down beside a bottle,
in hysteria.
Now, I hide behind a tussock,
I crawl backwards on my stomach - 
off this area!

Time to waste - is very little;
in two strokes, I’m at the middle - 
A rapscallion! 
May you both drop dead while drinking:
My two fates - the one who’s limping
and the scarry one! 

Whether due to someone’s plotting 
or malicious concocting, 
it feels terrible. 
My travails were inadvertent;
I was carried by the current.
How regrettable!

I thought life was easy travel,
you don’t need to use your paddle - 
best I could have done...
My two fates departed, howling:
Wretched One continues prowling
with the Crooked One!