.A tramp ©
Total Number:
13
Dmitri Kedrin; Translated & music by Mirvis E.
Performed by Mirvis A.& Hodggets B.
A Tramp
Every tramp in his possession has a little chest of keepsakes.
Even if that tramp’s neglecting superstitions of bad luck
Not for ghosts of any riches, in his quiet swoons of sleep-breaks,
He won't trade for wine or pleasures cherished little sailor’s trunk…
Where beneath the stale of friendships, under feuds, smoked with time’s vapors,
Between feelings turned to moldered, mushrooms’ bundles dried above, -
It’s secured by twine in tension, wrapped in a faded old newspaper,
Hiding like a little mouse, very clumsy sailor’s love.
When the brig has raised its anchor, when, the tavern brew’s been drunk,
When blue shutters nailed forever, in his home without a host,
He will give to his companions everything to the last chunk,
But this yellow, secret package, he won't show for any cause.
There will come a day on brig’s boards, as the waves’ cheek slaps will pound-and
T’ boatswain will whistle: "All up! It’s upon us: ‘the ninth wave!"
Right before, the tramp steps firmly, to the stormed deck from a cabin,
He will then unfold the wrapping, rip wet collar off to pray.
When the water crushes out, in the brig’s hold, the oak barrels,
He will see while he is plunging deep into t' Atlantic's miles:
A thin-face looking enchantress, with big eyes like girls from carols,
From a photo, worth a penny, giving him her winning smile.
Every tramp in his seclusion has his memories in a small trunk…