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Электронные книги «ИнтерЛита»

Дом Берлиных — литературно-музыкальный салон

Республиканский научно-практический центр «Кардиология»

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АЗАЧЕМ


Бесхозное Inter-сезонноеКорочеГражданская война Голову задравшиСтадо поименно Когда я был предельно мал (негероическая поэма) Шутки, ирония, подражанияЗверское — Чуждое

ЧУЖДОЕ (ENGLISH)

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Who the heck nicked the hour?

 

Some bastard nicked one hour

From our day today

And I am feeling sour

What else is there to say?

 

This unknown individual

Is surely quite mean

We definitely needed it

And were — to keep it — keen

 

We had to get up earlier

And, therefore, overslept

The whole thing is a failure

And quite hard to accept

*)

 

 

No Tears

Песенка оптимиста*)

 

***

 

When autumn clouds meet with the sun

The former eat the latter

But life goes on, until you’re done

And then — it doesn’t matter

 

When autumn’s grey paints up your head

Your bones begin to rattle

But life goes on, until you’re dead

And then — it doesn’t matter

 

Water, water, water, what a mess!

Shedding tears, though, is wasting water

And that’s a clear sign of carelessness

When the global climate’s getting hotter

 

You lose your hair and your friends

Get lonelier and wetter

But life goes on, until it ends

And then — it doesn’t matter

 

Between last straws and final drops

It doesn’t get much better

But life goes on, until it stops

And then — it doesn’t matter

 

Water, water, water, what a mess!

Shedding tears, though, is wasting water

And that’s a clear sign of carelessness

When the global climate’s getting hotter

*)

 

 

What happened?

 

Whatever happened to the sky?

It's crying bitterly all day

No blue, no white, just grey and... grey

And not a ... single bird would fly

 

Why does it need to be so sly

Those dark clouds' grin above my head?

The streets are wet and mournful, why?

I guess I know: the sun is dead

*(

 

 

Hit by the Rain

 

This mean and nasty heavy rain

It hit me! On the head!

I’m «wet and lonely», and in pain

I wish I’d stayed in bed

 

I ventured foolishly outside

On a sunny English morning*)

And had no time at all to hide

It came without a warning

 

I have no raincoat and no hat

And my umbrella broke

Last week, and I declare that

The whole thing is a joke

 

— Oh, bloody hell! and — Holy shit!

I glare at the Saviour

How can he possibly permit

Such total misbehaviour?!

*)

 

 

Cats and Dogs

A self-parody of «Hit by the Rain»

 

***

 

I got hit

Badly

By a cat

Which I did not provoke

It fell from heaven on me head

In a most ungentle stroke

 

No sooner had it run away

And vanished in the fog

Than, to my anger and dismay...

I got hit by a dog!

 

Alert! Alert! Bring out all

Umbrellas, macs and hats

God only knows what else may fall

It’s raining dogs and cats!

*)

 

 

Beginnings

 

In the beginning there was the Word

Then, lots of words and, later, lots of phrases

Yet, that was not enough, for — let us face this —

No harmony in all that could be heard

 

And then, one night, a weird-looking fellow

With all the markings of a perfect nut

Knocked on the door of the Creator’s hut

Who was relaxing, feeling blue and mellow

 

Annoyed, the Old Man shuffled to the door

— Who could it be, at such an awkward hour?

Just when I was about to take my shower...

Quite honestly, for God’s sake, what a bore!

 

But, as he was thus for the front door heading

He could not do as little as surmise

That he was in for a really bad surprise

Not so much at the sight as at the wording

 

No swearing, no begging — something worse

No sooner had the front door squeaked and yielded

Revealing what a nuisance it had shielded

Than the intruder said: — Let there be Verse!

 

A lightning bolted and then thunder roared

No single mortal ever had such guts

The Old Man frowned and shouted: — Are you nuts?!!

And leaned a little menacingly forward

 

But there was little else that he could try

No way to set those gears in reverse

For fresh and totally uncensored verse

Was flying freely in the evening sky

 

According to historical narrators

That’s how the story of the poets runs

And rhyming writers, like non-rhyming ones

Forever since are listed as creators

*)

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