Ода пьяному велосипеду
My bike, although you are drunk, I ride you well:
Perhaps with wiggling, but in the right direction;
I know: like me, you're under cycling spell,
And we are both excited about adventures!
From pub to pub, I follow your path,
Avoided by cars as in a fine enchantment;
We need refuelling in our cycling love,
For our shared sunny miles in country.
Exploring world is best by a drunken bike:
It holds you tight and knows routes and valleys;
As a trusty horse, it brings you; yet unlike,
It needs no food and runs on pure cyders!
Long live the bike and be improved with time
Titanium and glorious Shimano!
And cyder, for the wings to add to fly,
And a cyclist, for some poetry and drama...
Perhaps with wiggling, but in the right direction;
I know: like me, you're under cycling spell,
And we are both excited about adventures!
From pub to pub, I follow your path,
Avoided by cars as in a fine enchantment;
We need refuelling in our cycling love,
For our shared sunny miles in country.
Exploring world is best by a drunken bike:
It holds you tight and knows routes and valleys;
As a trusty horse, it brings you; yet unlike,
It needs no food and runs on pure cyders!
Long live the bike and be improved with time
Titanium and glorious Shimano!
And cyder, for the wings to add to fly,
And a cyclist, for some poetry and drama...