Перевела стихотворения Дмитрия Коломенского (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006584954622) на английский

Meet Vera Petrovna, she is an ogre.
Not that she's cooking humans for dinner, not!
Not that she's creeping when it is going dark.
Knife picking, cane sticking, grinding her fang –
Once again not! She's growing like a grass:
Bowing to the East when wind is blowing from the West,
Bowing to the West, when it's blowing from the East. But what's more important
At that moment she's not going to feast.

But when her superior - no matter how big or small -
While talking of peace and happiness gives her a secret call,
She gets it, once and for all, seeing those secret signs
Vera Petrovna straightens and looks with the bright red eyes
At those who offend her virtue, religion, class
She's up for some human flesh as you can guess.

Upon finding a hostile look, a poisonous tongue, a nose too curved
A simple-minded Vera Petrovna just writes a report.
A more refined Vera Petrovna prepares a research or a guide
Under the title On the Topical Issues of the Prevention of Crime
............................of the Full Specter of the Political Harm
............................Stalling Russia from Rising from the Knees and up to Sky".

But the best of them know it isn't so easy to please
So, she goes to the court, serves in the prosecution, police
Where the supply is regular, meat is fresh and the method is best
After all it is healthier to dine with the rest then eating alone.
As a ton of examples show from the ancient times to now on.
And the gravy that makes human flesh especially sweet
Depends on the norms and standards created to meet
The tastes of the era in which you consume human meat.

But the times are a-changing, the bosses command: it's all clear
Vera Petrovna slouches her shoulders, and loses her zeal
Hatred, passion and virtue are fading back
She's a human again, and her eyes turn to blue or black.

We are riding the bus together, discussing times
The radishes sprout weakly, but the potatoes are fine
The December is going to be snowless, and then I suddenly see
That she looks through my coat, she isn't looking at me
Is she choosing which of my parts are better for roast or for shchi?
- Decent meat is so scarcely today, - says she.
......................................................................
Open-mouthed I stay
I don’t know what to say, where to hide
Engine purrs, heart pounds, bus is slowly making its way
And a bloody light in Vera Petrovna eyes is still burning bright.

https://beth4ever.livejournal.com/2820634.html