Александр Новиков - Женщина ушла
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За женщиной тянулся шлейф –
Синявый дым табачный
До первого угла.
Сорвалось с губ моих о ней
Два слова неудачных,
И женщина ушла.
Висел вопрос в ее прищуре узком.
Продать она себя хотела и могла
На языке любом. Но я сказал на русском.
И женщина ушла.
А я пошел, мурлыча в тон
По городу, где Альпы
Над крышами – горбом.
Где танцовщицы за стеклом
То белы, то асфальтны,
То просто в голубом.
И в кабаке, в дыму, в проходе узком
Мне пела у стола взахлеб и догола.
И даже позвала. Но я сказал на русском.
И женщина ушла.
И был я нем. И был я зол.
И ухарем бездомным
Из потного стекла
Чужое пойло, как рассол,
Хлебал в дыму бездонном.
И выстыл, как зола.
И в руки мне ломилась грудью блузка.
Кривлялась и врала. Метала и рвала.
И на углу ждала. Но я сказал на русском.
И женщина ушла.
1995 год
Behind the woman stretched the train -
Bloomy smoke tobacco
To the first corner.
Broke from my lips about her
Two words unsuccessful
And the woman is gone.
Hung the question in her prom and narrow.
She wanted to sell himself and could
In any language. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
And I went, Murlycha in the tone
In the city where the Alps
Over the roofs - hump.
Where is the dancer behind the glass
Then white, then asphalt,
That is just in blue.
And in the kabaska, in smoke, in the passage narrow
I sang at the table in the table and devouring.
And even called. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
And I was me. And I was angry.
And the Uharem homeless
From sweaty glass
Alien shattered like brine,
Broke in smoke bottomless.
And raised as ash.
And in my hands I broke the blouse.
Mural and blinked. Metal and rushed.
And I waited at the corner. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
1995.
Bloomy smoke tobacco
To the first corner.
Broke from my lips about her
Two words unsuccessful
And the woman is gone.
Hung the question in her prom and narrow.
She wanted to sell himself and could
In any language. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
And I went, Murlycha in the tone
In the city where the Alps
Over the roofs - hump.
Where is the dancer behind the glass
Then white, then asphalt,
That is just in blue.
And in the kabaska, in smoke, in the passage narrow
I sang at the table in the table and devouring.
And even called. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
And I was me. And I was angry.
And the Uharem homeless
From sweaty glass
Alien shattered like brine,
Broke in smoke bottomless.
And raised as ash.
And in my hands I broke the blouse.
Mural and blinked. Metal and rushed.
And I waited at the corner. But I said in Russian.
And the woman is gone.
1995.
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