Jolly Fellow Mr Franz
(Alexander Vvedensky, 1929 or 1930; English translation © G. Veles, 2021)
Jolly fellow Mr Franz
Kept a big protuberance
From the start until the end
On the porch his time was spent
Called on flowers, watched the sun
Thought that you and I were one
Counting minutes all day long
All day long he sang a song
He was dead and he was done
Like a polyp and a gun
He observed a skirt with fear
Fantasizing in his snooze
Sitting in a boat he steered
Straight towards a pensive spruce
There the bugs walked in formation
Making turns with dedication
Waving feelers at the gods
They would say we are like clocks
But the gods would moan and squall
Plunging down the waterfall
Underneath a tangled lawn
Certain ants were being born
And a firefly with spite
Set his massive torch alight
Lightning flashed without a sound
Critters snorted as they yearned
And the waves sedately growled
Lying down on the sand
Where oh where did all this happen
Where did all this spin around
Said the sun I can’t be certain
Coming down into the ground
There again is Mr Franz
Out of his suitcase comes
Something of a human peer
And a therapist to boot
And proclaims the godly seer
That the party is afoot
Idle stars converge and huddle
People smolder like a rubble
One by one the thoughts are racing
All is pointless and depressing
God this party is a dread
Like a christmas for the dead
Hens are out for a stroll
Cupids hop around the hall
And the engine feels it’s stuck
Having to survey the muck
Franz awakens what a nightmare
What was all that doing there?
Now the servant is a tree
Meadows span infinity
Short and stocky like a reed
Sleeps a collar in its seat
Branches soaked in kerosene
Brighten up the evening scene
Seer answer me at once
Am I dreaming? I’m a dunce
But the seer can’t be found
Where’s the godly therapist
In his sleep he’s keeping count
Falling down like faded leaves
In this real world of ours
He’s unable to survive
He is calmly breeding shadows
Never shining up above
Turks, supply me with a hansom
Jolly Mr Franz exclaimed
Just a rocketship and then some
Engine power unrestrained
I will cross the universe
In this wonderful contraption
Me a prisoner of earth
In a stellar racing action
From above I’ll watch the moss
I’m a chickadee … … …
From the void of dreadful drowse
From the sharpness of the night
Out comes a wreath of flowers
Out comes a ramous scythe
You’re a viper foul and mean
You’re the childless death of me
Franz will mutter in despair
In your every single hair
There’s more thought than in a jug
There’s more sleep than in a drug
Go ahead and grab your dagger
Use it to cut up my clobber
Cut my flesh and then proceed
To affix me to my seat
Science triumphs everywhere
In a raspy voice I utter
I’ll create myself an heir
Shaped exactly like a lantern
And the heir will stand and shine
Writing essays all the time
Death declared you are a bliss
And retreated to the east
Now lonely Mr Franz
Watches his protuberance
Calls the flowers views the sun
Tries to join us into one
As he lies in total calm
In the heavenly realm