L’AME DE VICTIME
Avait largement reçu de quoi
Devenir un perroquet doloriste,
Mais un jour il a vidé ses placards
Des habits qui auraient trop bien
Convenu à l’ennemi, et il est parti
Vers un vent d’au-delà des terres.
Les juges, il les a laissés vieillir
De plus en plus vite, avec le souvenir
Du bon vieux temps où l’on bandait même
Devant L’Inscription de la jeune fille
Au Komsomol. A ceux qui voulaient sa veste
Il a laissé son manteau : la victoire,
Messieurs, c’est de ne jamais laisser
La belle âme de victime rafler la mise.
A VICTIM’S SOUL
Had received more than enough to make
Of him a grief-glorifying parakeet,
But one day he emptied his closets
Of suits which would have been all too
Becoming to the enemy, and he went off
Toward a wind from beyond those lands.
As for the judges, he left them to age
More and more quickly, with the memory
Of the good old days when they got a hard-on even
In front of The Young Girl Being Registered
In the Komsomol. To those who wanted his jacket
He left his coat: victory
My good sirs, is never to allow
The noble victim’s soul to walk off with the jackpot.