Бабушка не пускала. Но Федор надел ордена
и пошел в Совет Ветеранов. Блажен муж
иже не иде в совет ветеранов в такой мороз
в свои девяносто. Но Федор надел ордена.
И почти вернулся. Каких-нибудь двести шагов,
сто стуков палочки – и был бы дома, но тут
дедушку Федю убил наповал Дед Мороз.
...лежал на снегу, желтый, как апельсин.
Палочка – рядом, – древко. А знамени нет.
Grandma wouldn’t let him. But Fyodor put on his medals
and went off to Veteran Affairs. Blessed is the man
who doesn’t walk to veteran affairs in such a blizzard
at ninety years old. But Fyodor put on his medals.
And almost came back. Some two hundred steps,
one hundred knocks of his cane – and he’d be home, but here
grandpa Fyodor was killed cold by Father Frost.
... he lied in the snow, yellow, like an orange.
His cane – nearby, - like a pole. But without a flag.