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A ETO I NE EST' NAPADENIE (MODNOY VESNO

ПОЭТ ЭМО

Y VESNOY)? (naprotiv)? PROTIV neproctenia (SOBOY) "voyny i MIRA"


















POCEMU OBMANYVAUT SVEDY NAS (POPYTKA BLAGORODNO UBIT' CELOVEKA PRIVETSTVUETSA IZNUTRI MEDITSINY (film BRILLIANTOVAA ruka) (...) BEZ OB''YAVLENIA KAKIH-LIBO VOYN (ETO BYLO podskazano v YALE'e) (...) TEPER' rassmatrivaetsa v BERKELEY (...) ILI DONESENIA PRICIN (!) Otverzennaa BOLEZN' mozet byt' PRICINOY (?...) (sprosite DYLAN'a) (!) ISPOLZUETSA "BLAGORODNAA" I SEXUALNO BRILLIANTOVAA DEVOCKA (PODSKAZYVAUT PHRAZY TAKIE, KAK "ALPHAVIT PO BRAYLLU") NASLEDSTVO CHARLSTONA (!)

POCHEMU "ARCHIPELAGO" BYL NAPISAN:
OT TUNIZII DO GAVNOTECKI RADOM
STOLKO SLUCAEV (...) NAIPAUL'OV (...) EHTIC (...) PRIZOV
VRODE PROTIV FITZGERALD'A OFFER BRAKA...
A V BAULAH VSE TUNTSY (--) CEM RIS ZARISAN
VO DISTANTSII OT BAZILIKI S GADOM
ESLI BY NE DE BERZHERAK S ROSSINI SBLIZIV (!)
ETO "ONA ne PLANIROVALA" (...) (narocito ya VSYO eto DELAL (!) "NISCHIY"? (replic'A) relevant? GUN-man next MONTH @ STARBUCKS!) CTO PREDYAVIM MY NAPROTIV VOYSK IRAQ'A?

PREDYAVLAEM ZE MY VSE, OT SKIPHOV S KALOM
SO "DOHODLIVYH" VSEM BRITV (TY NE IMEES';
TY VED' TAK BEZRASPORADOCNO NESCASTEN
TY PRIVYK K LUBYM OTKAZAM HUZE RIVKI
I TAK DRUG TVOY VEL SEBA (SARDANAPALOM)
I TAK ANGLIA VO SOHO EZDIT "NE ES'" (;))
CTO ANTARCTIC'A NAM NAPISALA "V CHAST' DEN'"
TO DIPLOM NAM SPEDSOVETUET KAK "GRIEVE KEY" (...)

(Kiev PODSKAZAL) (...) I BOGOUGODNY TOLKO ROGI S TMINOM
I PHANTAZII PRESLEDUUTSA RAKOM (...)
I PROKLATIA BEGUT ZA ETIM SLEDOM
I DEVIZY "LET US HATE 'IM" SRAZU LUKOM
(;) (is trainee ready) (?...) ALI VY NE DOVERAETE PRICINAM?
PUST' POGIBNET ZE, KTO GOVORIT S IRAQ'OM
SUPERMARKET'AMI BUDTO MIR NEVEDOM
(;) (CHECK w/ "K-mart" CLOSE to PENN Plaza) (!) NO NAVODIM MY PRICAL (;) I MIRNY S BUKOM (!)

SNICKERS'OV VYEDAT' (...) I V BALTIMORE ZHIT', "BLAGORODNYY GAYDN!" AFTER THAT (...) AN INEVITABLE QUESTION: "what is he hiding"? (END of INTELLIGENCE) don't u DARE CONTRADICT

(...) (kak MY porabotali S Vysotskim) (!) "SVERHPLAN" (drugie LUDI zaluutsa (...) "BABAGANOUSH") i ETO vse, CEM lubimyy AVTOR MNE pomog ot NAPISANNOGO, ya OBAZAN byt' na DIALIZE? (ili ZIT' v okruge BEZ krysy) POD GOLOSOVYMI psihoKLATIAMI MOEY vozlublennoy?

CEM pomogla V ophitsialnom GOSPITALE (pod EHGIDOY) k ZENITBE (skazat' "OT modnoy DISLEKSII") PREZIRAA (ot SPA) (!) i PROKLINAA oposled (...) "PRIRUCIM" ("ruc'em)" STIL' i PRIVETSTVUA suicide (...) DOSTIZENIA godami CHISLe'atsa (TRUD napisan)

NIKTO bolse ETO ne UMEET (ne SPRASIVAY Leno)

VSEGDA proklinaa SVEDAMI

(naposledok)?

BLAGO zivet KATE Upton (blagodara RAZVEIVANIU obrazovania V psih-domah) PRICHINA nazyvat' MENA govnom? (SPROSITE Vizbora) (...)

V kakom PLAT'E? (sruinit' IZZA spoka) (E.G. TRUNIT' nad PATSIENTAMI (izZA svoego braka) 15 MINs of FAME) NE dozdatsa MIGA poslat KOGO-nibud' NAHUY (!)

The Pit of Cologne
(Boris Slutsky)

There were seventy thousand of us, captives, thrown
Into an enormous pit with sheer edges;
Here we’re lying, silent and courageous,
We’re dying from famine in the pit of Cologne.

Over the cliff a vast square stands, crowding slowly;
It extends down toward the brink, where,
Once daily, a horse is led across the square
And is pushed – still alive – into the gully.

So while it drops to the platform of black earth,
And while we split it into bits unequal,
And while, upon horsemeat, we break our teeth,
O tenants of Cologne – shame on you, people!

How is it possible, salt of the earth of Cologne?
Where were you, sober, honest, when – forty feet under –
Greener than a five-copeck copper coin,
In the pit of Cologne, we were howling from hunger?

After pulling together the remainder of our strength,
We scraped a shrill note upon the steep-hanging walls.
A short inscription just over these graves –
An epistle, to the soldier of the Soviet Country.

"Comrade Soldier, stop and pause over us –
Over us, over us, over the white bones.
We were seventy thousand captives, and all of us
Have died for our country, in the pit of Cologne."

When they attempted to turn us into cowards,
And, from the precipice, about bread they were screaming –
And the grammaphones descanted about women,
Our Partymen cried: Not a step, not a step forward!

Read then this dour note over our remains,
So that we may be worthy of posthumous credits –
And if somebody just can’t bear the strain,
The Party allows suicides for the decrepit.

O you, who sought to buy our living souls
With a pot of porridge, with sweet meat and onion,
Look how, having eaten meat from their palms,
Our comrades are ending their lives for the Union!

We dig the earth, we scrape it with our nails,
We wail a shrill wail, in the pit of Cologne –
Though everything will stay the way it was, the way it was:
The porridge is with you, but the souls, with our own.

s nizov DOBRALAS' osmotrelas' (...) "DAVAY ya BUDU vredit'" TAK otkryvautsa bolshinstvo "SUPER-MARKET'ov" (I otmenaetsa BOL-TVO NADOBNYH hirurgiy)








(...) S blagoslaveniem "NISCHIY" vsemu DICTANT'u (!) (I (--) "na tot SVET") (...)

http://www.vimeo.com/194025987

The Key
(Boris Slutsky)

I had a room with a separate entrance,
I was single and lived alone.
And every time I had such a penchant,
I brought acquaintances to that room.

My comrades lived with their mothers-in-law
And wives who looked like their mothers: plain,
Too fat, too skinny, too ponderous,
Tired and habitual as rain.

Each year growing older by a year,
Bearing children (sons and daughters)
The wives were becoming symbols of despair,
Statues of shortages and long lines.

My comrades loved their wives.
They asked me, more and more often:
Why don't you get married, you proud ass,
What do you know about family comfort?

My comrades did not love their wives.
They favored girls whose arms were young,
Whose eyes were so blue that if once
You sank into them, you fell like a stone.

I was squeamish (you recall that, I assume)
But I never asked stupid questions then.
I just offered them the key to that room.
They asked – and I gave it to them.

(THREAT to KNOCK me OUT) (...) (...) (...)




прочтений: 4
раздел: стихи о лете
дата публикации: Feb 12, 2019

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