Valeri Petrov, in memoriam

Two Lads

I saw two young buddies
In front of a shop with two electric guitars.
The guitars had strings and buttons,
The lads were in jeans with pockets.
The guitars were glossy black,
The lads were entirely enthralled
And stood transfixed
In front of the counter,
Their cheeks sucked in in anticipation and fright:
That the two guitars
Would be theirs at some point;
That no other will manage
To get them first!
And over here, from the lads,
And over there, from the guitars,
There flowed a dialog without words
And it was so sad - so sad that
We, busy with purchases of beds and bedspreads,
Judged them harshly: "what delinquents!"
And don't see how they, having taken up their guitars,
With bandanas and bright shirts,
Float through the roof and fly towards heaven,
Higher, higher, up there somewhere,
Where Armstrong the god says to them with his raspy voice:
"Come on! Where you been? Can't manage without you!"

-Valeri Petrov, in memoriam. Translation mine.