Mher Chatinyan
“Friends,” 2019

Jim, give me your paw for luck—
I’ve never seen a paw like yours.
Let’s howl together at the moon
On this quiet, windless night.
Jim, give me your paw for luck.

Please, sweetheart, don’t lick me.
Try to understand just one small thing:
You don’t know what life is,
Or why it’s worth living.

Your master is kind and well-known,
And often welcomes guests into his home.
Each one, with a smile, reaches out
To stroke your velvet-soft coat.

You’re devilishly handsome, Jim,
With such a sweet, trusting face.
You don’t ask anyone’s leave—
You lean in to kiss like a drunken friend.

My dear Jim, among your guests,
There have been all kinds of people.
But has the quietest, saddest one
Perhaps stopped by here by chance?

She’ll come, I promise you.
And when you gaze into her eyes,
Gently lick her hand for me—
For all I was, and wasn’t, to blame for.

Sergei Yesenin, “To Kachalov’s Dog”

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