(A brother’s poem. For relaxation)

What beast is that at the forest’s edge
Rumbling and rolling in?
Why, it’s a truck from Kutaisi,
It’s called «Kolkhida».

It tears from under itself and thunders,
Look — it blows with smoke.
It just doesn’t want to go,
But good that it hums.

Got lucky — it picked up speed,
It flies even off a hump — 70.
It ran wild along the road,
Impossible to straighten out.

Driver left — she goes right,
Then straight and the other way round.
For a second he corrected her somewhere,
The wheel in his fists again.

It rattles, it puffs and simply hops,
The poor chauffeur almost cries.
The spare hangs on by snot,
And the sideboard will fly off any minute.

Now that’s a truck… That’s a wonder!
A head like a camel’s,
A dragon’s tail crawls along,
And it hauls something on itself too.

And a truck like a truck.
And a full tank of gas.
And a spark like a pea,
And it won’t start at all.

Sulima, Herus and Kavchak
Have studied the «Kolkhida».
Each is an ace in her now,
They’ll drive the whole world on her.