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A Wrestler's Husband

Female wrestling

Poem



Русский вольный перевод


Ferentz Farkas Once, when I was a teenager, I happened to see a women's wrestling match. At that time, I was very far from sports and my feelings were close to what the British poet Robert Service (1874 - 1958) described in one of his poems - it seemed to me that the it was a savage fight between two wild cats... Fate laughed at me though. Studying in an American university, I met a beautiful girl and fell in love with her - she happened to be a member of the university freestyle wrestling team... After a while, I wrote my own poem devoting to my beloved wife.

Ferentz Farkas

California, USA

Female wrestling

... they milled like mad,
And mauled the mat in rare old style...

Then up and launched like catapults,
And tangled, twisted, clinched and clung,
Then tossed in savage somersaults,
And hacked and hammered, ducked and swung;
And groaned and grunted, sighed and cried,
Now knotted tight, now springing free;
To bend each other's bones they tried,
Their faces crisped in agony...
Then as a rage rose, with tiger-bound,
They clashed and smashed, and flailed and flung,
And tripped and slipped, with hammer-pound,
And streaming sweat and straining lung...
Then like mad bulls they hooked and mauled,
And blindly butted, bone on bone;
Spread-eagled on the mat they sprawled,
And writhed and rocked with bitter moan...

Fragment of the poem "Wrestling match"
by Robert William Service


            A Wrestler's Husband


It's like a danger
        hangs over my life,
my ducky's involved in combat!
My darling, my dearest,
        my beautiful wife
steps out onto the mat.

She looks rather dangerous,
        ready for fight,
ready to give and to get.
I hope, I believe -
        she will be all right
with her vis-a-vis tete-a-tete.

The opposite lady
        is strong enough,
she truly looks like a guy.
I know, my honey
        is also tough,
she's capable to reply.

My wife is not scrappy,
        She's peaceful at heart,
She never blows a fuse
But in the battle
        she snatches hard
Trying to choke and to bruise.

I am excited,
        nailed to the spot,
her choice is a rocky way.
Although sometimes
        I damn this sport,
I blow all doubts away.

In fact, all my doubts
        should totally melt
in her self-assurance, in fact -
years of experience
        under her belt,
she knows how to act.

They look at each other -
        two beautiful foes,
ready for deadly locks,
for braking backs
        and for cruel throws,
for holds, for chokes and for blocks.

The ladies toughly
        started the fight -
I've seen such moments a lot:
the two lock together,
        aggressive and tight,
reminding a sailing knot.

My honey's challenger
        comes with a trick -
taking advantage of weight.
She simply flops down -
        nimble and quick,
undecorated and straight.

In other words,
        she abruptly falls
taking my babe with her.
Two furious women,
        two rolling fireballs
make burst of emotions and stir.

The luck is fickle,
        I know that -
her rival turns out on top.
she is afoot
        for a fierce combat
to make of my wife a chop.

Biting my nails
        and shaking my seat,
I loudly cheer for my wife,
praying for having
        her rival defeat,
for stopping the cruel strife.

Her rival mercilessly
        starts to shove,
using each extra ounce -
she heavily leans
        on my beautiful love
attempting to really trounce.

I almost die,
        I am very upset
to see my half in trouble.
I only see
        her suppressed silhouette
and wish her efforts to redouble.

I feel her body
        begins to cramp
under the heavyweight's press.
I still believe
        she will be a champ
escaping the real mess.

The foe topples her over,
        goes for pin,
but gets rebuffed and gets back -
my wife moves the rival
        up with a spin
breaking her bearish back.

Surmounting ache,
        straining every her muscle,
she struggles without rest,
she brings together
        all her reserve
to overcome the contest.

Her perfectly chiseled
        body and breast
are now like passioned flames.
She wants decisively
        to contest
the challenger's futile claims.

She grips the foe
        in a iron vise,
with all her fantastic might.
The rival wrestler
        should pay the price
for torturing her tonight.

She grabs her adversary
        for the last attack -
it's an incomparable move -
she turns her around
        and puts her on back
planting herself above.

This skillful technique
        just completes the combat,
my deary's the champ again!
Her helpless opponent
        is nailed to the mat
and looks like a toppled slain...



Ferentz Farkas        

June 2005        

Exclusive of the "Female Single Combat Club"


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