I’m an Angel

I’ve stopped drinking.
                          I love my wife.
My own wife--
                I insist on this.
Living so like an angel,
I almost quote Shchipachev.
This is a shriveled life.
I’ve shut my eyes to all other women.
My shoulders feel peculiar.
Aha!
        Wings must be sprouting!
This makes me anxious.
                        Moody.
And the wings keep sprouting-what a nuisance!
                                                How awkward!
Now I’ll have to slit
my jacket in appropriate places.
A true angel,
                I bear life no grudge
for all its cruel hurts.
I’m a true angel.
                  But I still smoke.
I’m the smoking type.
To be an angel 
                is strange work.
Pure spirit.
             Not an ounce of flesh.
And the women pass by.
A true angel,
                what good to them am I!
I don’t count for the present,
not while I hold celestial rank,
but--bear in mind--in this life,
a fallen angel
                is the worst devil of all!

Translated by George Reavey