Александр Дольский - Сердце на тротуаре
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СЕРДЦЕ НА ТРОТУАРЕ
На тротуаре сердце лежало,
на тротуаре, солнцем согретом.
Оно чуть дышало, оно чуть дрожало,
мягкое, грустное сердце поэта.
Его уронила нечаянно утром
женщина с добрым рассеянным взглядом,
когда доставала из сумочки пудру
или помаду, или помаду.
А ночью подвыпивший старый бродяга
о сердце споткнулся, до смерти разбился.
Собачники утром забрали беднягу -
смотри, этот парень неделю не брился.
И сердце забрали, а старший собачник,
который не думал над тем, что неясно,
решил, что ему привалила удача:
такое хорошее, свежее мясо.
Жена из фасоли и сердца поэта
сварила еще неизвестное блюдо,
и сыт был собачник, и все его дети,
и все приходившие в гости к ним люди.
А после обеда неясные мысли
и светлые думы, и образов стаи
сменили в их душах тоску и угрюмость,
и все - как ни странно - поэтами стали.
История кончилась, в общем, удачно,
но, честно признаться, уж вы не печальтесь,
конец я придумал, все было иначе,
и сердце осталось лежать на асфальте.
И об него спотыкается кто-то,
кто-то спешит, пробегая с ним рядом,
но ищет его до сих пор по субботам
женщина с добрым рассеянным взглядом.
А. Дольский
The heart is on the sidewalk
The heart lay on the sidewalk
On the sidewalk, the sun is warmed.
It breathed a little, it trembled a little,
The soft, sad heart of the poet.
He was dropped in an accident in the morning
A woman with a good scattered look,
when I took the powder from my handbag
Or lipstick, or lipstick.
And at night a tipsy old tramp
He stumbled about his heart, crashed to death.
Dogs took the poor in the morning -
Look, this guy did not shave for a week.
And the heart was taken, and the senior dog man,
who did not think about what is unclear
I decided that good luck had come to him:
Such a good, fresh meat.
Wife from beans and hearts of the poet
The still unknown dish was welded,
And the dog was full, and all his children,
And all people who came to visit them.
And after lunch, unclear thoughts
And the bright thoughts, and the images of the pack
replaced longing and gloomy in their souls,
And all - oddly enough - became poets.
The story ended, in general, successfully
But honestly, you are not sad, you are not sad
I came up with the end, everything was different
And the heart remained on the asphalt.
And someone stumbles on him
Someone is in a hurry, running next to him,
but still looking for him on Saturdays
A woman with a good scattered look.
A. Dolsky
The heart lay on the sidewalk
On the sidewalk, the sun is warmed.
It breathed a little, it trembled a little,
The soft, sad heart of the poet.
He was dropped in an accident in the morning
A woman with a good scattered look,
when I took the powder from my handbag
Or lipstick, or lipstick.
And at night a tipsy old tramp
He stumbled about his heart, crashed to death.
Dogs took the poor in the morning -
Look, this guy did not shave for a week.
And the heart was taken, and the senior dog man,
who did not think about what is unclear
I decided that good luck had come to him:
Such a good, fresh meat.
Wife from beans and hearts of the poet
The still unknown dish was welded,
And the dog was full, and all his children,
And all people who came to visit them.
And after lunch, unclear thoughts
And the bright thoughts, and the images of the pack
replaced longing and gloomy in their souls,
And all - oddly enough - became poets.
The story ended, in general, successfully
But honestly, you are not sad, you are not sad
I came up with the end, everything was different
And the heart remained on the asphalt.
And someone stumbles on him
Someone is in a hurry, running next to him,
but still looking for him on Saturdays
A woman with a good scattered look.
A. Dolsky
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