Crocodile Romance

Up to last spring Soviet censors barred romantic themes from new Soviet novels, plays and poems, denounced romance as frivolous and out of keeping with the Five-Year Plan. During the summer such restrictions were relaxed but many a Red editor still shies at printing romance. Recently the famed Crocodile, satiric Soviet monthly, set out to poke fun at editorial 'fraid-cats, did it with a neat, significant short story which reached the U. S. last week:

Dazzled by permission to write a love lyric for the imaginary newspaper Zamoisk Spooler, imaginary Poet Vasya Gribakin submits to his editor this synopsis of what he proposes to write:

1) Sitting on a bench.

2) Gazing at the moon.

3) The aroma of flowers.

4) Holding hands.

5) Whispering sweet nothings.

6) Love as such.

7) "You went, and I went, and both of us parted."

Vexed, the editor completely revises the synopsis, makes elaborate suggestions for a proper Soviet lyric. Docile, the poet does exactly as he is told, produces an effusion which the Zamoisk Spooler publishes under an eight-column streamer reading:

MORE POWER TO LYRICS!

FORWARD!

There was no bench, there was no moon, There were no birds nor flowers. They did not kiss, they did not spoon-- Accountant Petrov and the daughter of

Station Master Kowers. He said, "I finished my report," And she replied, "I'm glad." They rose . . . both left For everything was . . . said.

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