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Address: 832 Pierce Ave, Niagara Falls, NY 14305

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Sasha Cherny - Volume 2. Emigrant district. Poems and poems 1917-1932 » Page 60 » Read online books of all genres for free

Error*

(Story in verse)

It was in the Bois de Boulogne -
In March.
Sparrows chirped in excitement,
A thrush flew by with a fluff in its nose...
Above the head
They stirred plump-thick catkins
Poplars,
The wind sang over the paths,
And the first grass
The earth turned green.
I was sitting on the bench
Alone.
And in the distance, by the alley,
Purple stood a limousine.

Through the trunks - a necklace of clouds ...
Suddenly on track
Showed up with a Siamese cat
Ophelia…
Legs - two fragile glasses,
Eyes - two fatal cornflowers,
Lips - a branch of coral.
The sides swayed snakelike,
From the shoulder in a depraved, reddish cascade
A fox hung down.
Caught up… Glanced
A limousine standing in the distance,
Opened her crinoline with a tulip:
Sits down.

First a Siamese cat,
Like a boa constrictor,
Rubbed against my indifferent sleeve
And purred a little...
Then Ophelia,
Turning slightly towards me,
Showing the end of her tongue...
Love potion!
Her eyes saw vigilantly:
Behind the linden my limousine.
I am a gray-haired gentleman,
Pig King from New York.
Oh, how two cornflowers were shooting -
At me, at the limousine, at the clouds!
How excited was the tip of the shoe!
But I didn't give up. ..

To dispel the fog in the lady with the red fox
I reached into my pocket
And took out bread and sausage
In an émigré newspaper...
Lovely children!
What suddenly happened to her!..
And wearily in the distance to the limousine
An Englishman approached with his wife
And drove off home.
Ophelia stood up...
Even with a Siamese cat,
According to the logic of a lady,
Flashed with irritation
Smoky lilac eye...
They left with contempt,
Didn't even look back...
That's my whole story...

Am I to blame?

<1929>

In a sanatorium*

Open your eyes a little in the morning,
Turning up your nose over the sheet,
Slightly lazily twitch your finger
Sleepy leg—
From the inside of the next bed
Bass, reeking of nicotine,
Asks a question into space:
“Devil! Where are the boots?
He lies under the sheet,
Like a drowned man, angry,
And blows a fly from his nose
Waiting for a servant.

But you won't have time to answer,
A light knock - and the door floats
Gutta-percha gait
Sanatorsky Gabriel.
Like a pacifier for babies,
He brings coffee to bed...
It's a shame to have breakfast in bed—
I don't have the strength to refuse.
Drops roll along the neck,
Oil on my nose and chin...
Who would take me in his arms,
Swaddled and vilified?

Wrapping a dressing gown like a toga,
My neighbor jumped up from the bed,
Soap in hand, steering wheel to the left—
And thundering down the stairs.
But, like a boar, breaking down from the mountain,
Suddenly he flies into the harem pool,
So he flew in a ricochet
Into the washroom for ladies ...
Handles pull the handle,
The rustle of frenzied sandals
And two sopranos outside the door:
"Idiot!" "Hippopotamus!"

On the veranda under the balcony,
With a bench behind the door,
Ladies in the sunbathing
Bake their tan.
Our windows above the veranda...
With a chaste hand
I close the shutters tightly—
Modesty is God's best gift.
After all, from the sight of such an
Archivist even
May tremble in the crown of the head
Slam sunstroke ...

Manager in the dining room
From greasy pajamas
To me with social sophistication
He extended his palm edgewise.
The housekeeper with a sour sigh
Just sang to him,
Who yesterday, returning at midnight,
Instead of bromine, he took rum ...
He sticks an eye into me -
But my soul is transparent,
But my eyes are innocent,
Like water lilies over a pond .

Under a barren fig tree
Chess players - a doctor and a cook,
Moving their bald heads to the figures,
Prey with the importance of the gods.
Even chess is sweating...
Sphinxes froze to the side
Two rheumatic people in dressing gowns.
Do you hear the harsh creaking of the brain?
But the rooster, jumping up on the table,
Foolishly moved all the figures
And rushed off in hysterics
Under the curses of enemies . ..

On a hillock under a mimosa
Sprawled on a mat
Three vestals, two students,
Me and a duck without a tail.
Who covered his face with a newspaper,
Who, hanging his head languidly,
Looks into the distance, where the chickens are in the hole
Swarming around the bush.
The cat climbed on my chest,
Climbing to the ear, old eunuch…
An excellent career —
Being a bedding for a cat.

Masseuse shaves her legs,
Not mine, hers, of course.
The roosters are beating each other,
Arching their chests like Apaches...
The bottle has overturned,
Wouldn't be able to turn around -
And it whips with a warm stream
Vichy's on my thigh...
Laziness, mother of all vices!
I pray to you today
Intoxicated and blissfully.
From the inside of my soul.

<1929>

At the colonial exhibition*

I Quiet family

Slowly meek souls,
Elephant and elephant -
Two gray, heavy carcasses -
Walking quietly . ..
Waggling backwards between them
The only son, next to Dad 5 ,
Sides, like a reliable tyn,
Elephant gently pushes the baby elephant
Heel under the belly,
Elephant breathes the child
Trunk in the ear ...
Lilliputians-humans behind the moat
Laugh, squeak.
Umbrellas - hats - coats,
Scarlet dust and garden.
The parent, snorting loudly,
Opened his mouth like a triangle:
“Throw a roll to the child.
Is it really that hard to hit?”
But the people are silent in embarrassment,
Glancing over the stick with their eyes—
An announcement hangs on the stick:
"You can't feed the animals."
And so, like a giant robot,
An elephant stood on a cement rampart
And, throwing its trunk up,
Picked a bunch from an acacia tree…
Throwing a snack to a baby elephant —
Eat, dear!
And the mother, bowing to the child,
Kicked her leg in delight.

II Negress

Black Diana
In a striped burnous
Ate a banana
At the reed gate.
Passers-by around,
Like curious geese,
Crowded in a ring
And looked into her mouth...

She didn't see them—
Didn't want to see them!
Eyes above the crowd —
Cold spear…
But nobody thought
Offend Diana:
Looked at the giraffe —
Now at her.

Through the bushes from the menagerie
There was a stench.
Tower in the sun
Glittered like a broadsword.
I wiped it in Oryol's way
I wiped my mouth with the palm of my hand
And, swaying on my hips,
I went into a hut.

III By the pond

Motor boats crawl lazily,
And in each boat there are sixteen heads.
It’s good to blow black beer by the pond,
Don’t wander around the kiosks, don’t feel the carpets…
Only the radio from the oak is hoarse and rude
About unearthly love screams frantically—
You feel with your whole skin, as if from the top of the bell
Lyrical sweat radiates into the air. ..
Exhausted travelers shuffle past—
Forty thousand items and only a pair of eyes.
Pilgrims sit in the autocars like radishes:
Bowler hats and binoculars, and lilac gas.
Stuffiness and dust, all the tonsils are swollen,
The shoes are warmed up, the hand is like a whip ...
I will rest and go slowly to the Netherlands.
It is necessary to see a stuffed buffalo there.

1931

Colonial day*

With an embarrassed smile
I climbed into the Lilliputian train,
I picked up my legs,—
In the heart - the wind, in the heels - itching ...
They fly and dive through the bushes
Multi-colored stalls, -
Did the children blind them
From halva and marshmallow?
Wheels rumble-rattle...
Sleepily the lake flashed.
Hello, bull-faced tower!
Somalia! Madagascar!
The lady next to her is twirling her leg...
Ah, ma'am, forgive me!
I can't burst -
Either the tower, or you . ..

Around the world round dance
Went around the magical circle:
Colored noodles in the head,
Clusters of roofs and domes...
Half a million sweaty neighbors!
Move to the right or to the left?
Anthropophagi's restaurant?
Or towards the blue waters?
Under the straw cover
Glossy, thick idol
Strictly pointed at me
Navel-shaped eyes…
I stuck it under his arm
Crumpled my guidebook
And, looking around fearfully,
Hid in the bushes.

In the strict Italian hall
Angels of coolness breathe…
On the wall along the maps flashing
Lighthouses with fireflies.
Small pearls behind the window,
Yarn, coffee and corals…
But my soul was puffed up:
“To hell with yarn! I'm leaving!"
In the Dutch pavilion
It really was more interesting:
A foreigner on the bench
Studying the plan languidly...
O curls of linen yarn!
O wicked coral lips!
And eyes like coffee beans —
Seventeen francs a pound each…

He dragged himself to the menagerie…
Sleeping naked on the platform
Lions turning with disgust
Back to the motley audience.
A skinny giraffe climbed into the ditch
And, like a beggar, begging for food...
I put a wafer of aspirin in his mouth, embarrassed...
In three rows on brown rocks
Baboons sat:
Maybe they had a party
Or a scientific abstract ?
A shabby ostrich on a hillock
Splashed into the dust with a green jet...
I turned away in embarrassment
And went, sighing, away.

I did everything I needed to do:
I stared like blacks for half an hour,
savagely jerking my asses,0305 They blew at a gallop on the platform...
Walked around the Tunisian bazaar—
Smelled all the spirits there
And for some reason bought a helmet
From pressed dust...
The dome of the Sudanese fortress
I tasted with my eyes,
I counted all the sticks at the top,
Sticking out to the side... And then with a humble foot
I walked around the temple of Angkor…
Ah, I wish I could live in this temple
One for three weeks!

So that sentries at the entrances
Drive away all acquaintances,
So that in the whole huge temple
Only me and the dactylo .

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