Владимир Высоцкий - Палач
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Когда я об стену разбил лицо и члены
И все, что только было можно, произнес,
Вдруг сзади тихое шептанье раздалось:
- Я умоляю вас, пока не трожьте вены.
При ваших нервах и при вашей худобе
Не лучше ль чаю? Или огненный напиток?
Чем учинять членовредительство себе,
Оставьте что-нибудь нетронутым для пыток. -
Он сказал мне, - приляг,
Успокойся, не плачь. -
Он сказал: - Я не враг,
Я - твой верный палач.
Уж не за полночь - за три,
Давай отдохнем.
Нам ведь все-таки завтра
Работать вдвоем.
Раз дело приняло приятный оборот -
Чем черт не шутит - может, правда, выпить чаю?
- Но только, знаете, весь ваш палачий род
Я, как вы можете представить, презираю.
Он попросил: - Не трожьте грязное белье.
Я сам к палачеству пристрастья не питаю.
Но вы войдите в положение мое -
Я здесь на службе состою, я здесь пытаю.
И не людям, прости, -
Счет веду головам.
Ваш удел - не ахти,
Но завидую вам.
Право, я не шучу,
Я смотрю делово -
Говори что хочу,
Обзывай хоть кого.
Он был обсыпан белой перхотью, как содой,
Он говорил, сморкаясь в старое пальто:
- Приговоренный обладает, как никто,
Свободой слова, то есть подлинной свободой.
И я избавился от острой неприязни
И посочувствовал дурной его судьбе.
- Как жизнь? -спросил меня палач. - Да так себе... -
Спросил бы лучше он: как смерть - за час до казни?..
- Ах, прощенья прошу, -
Важно знать палачу,
Что, когда я вишу,
Я ногами сучу.
Да у плахи сперва
Хорошо б подмели,
Чтоб моя голова
Не валялась в пыли.
Чай закипел, положен сахар по две ложки.
- Спасибо! - Что вы! Не извольте возражать!
Вам скрутят ноги, чтоб сученья избежать,
А грязи нет, - у нас ковровые дорожки.
-Ах, да неужто ли подобное возможно!-
От умиленья я всплакнул и лег ничком.
Он быстро шею мне потрогал осторожно
И одобрительно почмокал языком.
Он шепнул: Ни гугу!
Здесь кругом стукачи.
Чем смогу - помогу,
Только ты не молчи.
Стану ноги пилить -
Можешь ересь болтать,
Чтобы казнь отдалить,
Буду дольше пытать.
Не ночь пред казнью, а души отдохновенье!
А я уже дождаться утра не могу.
Когда он станет жечь меня и гнуть в дугу,
Я крикну весело: - Остановись, мгновенье, -
Чтоб стоны с воплями остались на губах!
- Какую музыку, - спросил он, - дать при этом?
Я, признаюсь, питаю слабость к менуэтам,
Но есть в коллекции у них и Оффенбах.
Будет больно - поплачь,
Если невмоготу, -
Намекнул мне палач.
- Хорошо, я учту.
Подбодрил меня он,
Правда, сам загрустил -
Помнят тех, кто казнен,
А не тех, кто казнил.
Развлек меня про гильотину анекдотом,
Назвав ее лишь подражаньем топору
Он посочувствовал французкому двору
И не казненным, а убитым гугенотам.
Жалел о том, что кол в России упразднен,
Был оживлен и сыпал датами привычно.
Он знал доподлинно - кто, где и как казнен,
И горевал о тех, над кем работал лично.
- Раньше, - он говорил, -
Я дровишки рубил,
Я и стриг, я и брил,
И с ружьишком ходил.
Тратил пыл в пустоту
И губил свой талант,
А на этом посту
Повернулось на лад.
Некстати вспомнил дату смерти Пугачева,
Рубил, должно быть, для наглядности, рукой.
А в то же время знать не знал, кто он такой, -
Невелико образованье палачево.
Парок над чаем тонкой змейкой извивался,
Он дул на воду, грея руки о стекло.
Об инквизиции с почтеньем отзывался
И об опричниках - особенно тепло.
Мы гоняли чаи,
Вдруг палач зарыдал -
Дескать, жертвы мои
Все идут на скандал.
- Ах, вы тяжкие дни,
Палачева стерня
When I broke my face and members on the wall
And all that was possible, said,
Suddenly, a quiet whisper was heard behind:
“I beg you until you touch the veins.”
With your nerves and your thinness
Not better than tea? Or a fiery drink?
How to make acquaintance for yourself,
Leave something untouched for torture. -
He told me, - lay down,
Calm down, do not cry. -
He said: - I'm not an enemy,
I am your faithful executioner.
Not after midnight - for three,
Let's rest.
We are still tomorrow
Work together.
Since the case took a pleasant turnover -
What the hell is not joking - maybe, however, to drink tea?
- But only, you know, your whole chamber
I, as you can imagine, despise.
He asked: - Do not touch dirty linen.
I myself do not have an addiction to the palace.
But you will enter my position -
I'm here in the service, I'm trying here.
And not to people, I'm sorry, -
The score is in charge of their heads.
Your destiny is not so hot
But I envy you.
Really, I'm not joking
I look business -
Say what I want
Call at least anyone.
He was sprinkled with white dandruff, like soda,
He spoke, wrinkling into the old coat:
- The sentenced possesses like no one
Freedom of speech, that is, genuine freedom.
And I got rid of an acute hostility
And he sympathized with his bad fate.
- What's up? -The executioner asked me. - So-so... -
He would have asked: how is death - an hour before the execution? ..
- Ah, forgive me, -
It is important to know the executioner,
What when I hang
I have a sneak with my feet.
Yes, Plikha first
They would have grossed well
So that my head
I did not lie in dust.
Tea boiled, two tablespoons are laid.
- Thank you! - What do you! Do not please object!
Your legs will be twisted to avoid lignials,
But there is no dirt - we have carpet tracks.
-Ah, is it really possible!-
From touching, I burst into tears and lay down face down.
He quickly touched my neck carefully
And he smoked his tongue approvingly.
He whispered: not Gugu!
There are snappers around.
I can help - I can help
Only you do not be silent.
I will cut my feet -
You can chat heresy,
To move the execution,
I will torture longer.
Not a night before execution, but a soul of rest!
And I can’t wait in the morning.
When he begins to burn me and bend in the arc,
I will shout fun: - Stop, a moment, - -
So that the groans with cries remain on the lips!
“What kind of music,” he asked, “give it?”
I confess, I have a weakness for the menuets,
But they have an offenbach in the collection.
It will hurt - cry,
If unbearable, -
The executioner hinted to me.
- Okay, I will take into account.
He encouraged me,
True, he sad himself -
They remember those who are executed
And not those who executed.
Entertained me about the guillotine with a joke,
Calling it only with imitation of an ax
He sympathized with the French court
And not executed, but killed by the Huguenots.
Regretted that the stake in Russia was abolished,
He was lively and poured dates habitually.
He knew for certain - who, where and how he was executed,
And he grieved about those on whom he personally worked.
“Before,” he said, “
I chopped off the shoes
I and the harsh, I shaved,
And he walked with a gun.
Spent the ardor in the void
And destroyed his talent,
And in this post
Turned in the way.
Inappropriately remembered the date of death of Pugachev,
He must have chopped for clarity, with his hand.
And at the same time, I did not know who he was, -
Low Establishment of the executioner.
A steam over tea with a thin snake wriggled,
He blew onto the water, warming his hands on the glass.
About the Inquisition with veneration responded
And about the guardsmen - especially warm.
We drove teas
Suddenly the executioner sobbed -
Say, my sacrifice
Everyone goes to the scandal.
- Ah, you are heavy days
Fumbling Store
And all that was possible, said,
Suddenly, a quiet whisper was heard behind:
“I beg you until you touch the veins.”
With your nerves and your thinness
Not better than tea? Or a fiery drink?
How to make acquaintance for yourself,
Leave something untouched for torture. -
He told me, - lay down,
Calm down, do not cry. -
He said: - I'm not an enemy,
I am your faithful executioner.
Not after midnight - for three,
Let's rest.
We are still tomorrow
Work together.
Since the case took a pleasant turnover -
What the hell is not joking - maybe, however, to drink tea?
- But only, you know, your whole chamber
I, as you can imagine, despise.
He asked: - Do not touch dirty linen.
I myself do not have an addiction to the palace.
But you will enter my position -
I'm here in the service, I'm trying here.
And not to people, I'm sorry, -
The score is in charge of their heads.
Your destiny is not so hot
But I envy you.
Really, I'm not joking
I look business -
Say what I want
Call at least anyone.
He was sprinkled with white dandruff, like soda,
He spoke, wrinkling into the old coat:
- The sentenced possesses like no one
Freedom of speech, that is, genuine freedom.
And I got rid of an acute hostility
And he sympathized with his bad fate.
- What's up? -The executioner asked me. - So-so... -
He would have asked: how is death - an hour before the execution? ..
- Ah, forgive me, -
It is important to know the executioner,
What when I hang
I have a sneak with my feet.
Yes, Plikha first
They would have grossed well
So that my head
I did not lie in dust.
Tea boiled, two tablespoons are laid.
- Thank you! - What do you! Do not please object!
Your legs will be twisted to avoid lignials,
But there is no dirt - we have carpet tracks.
-Ah, is it really possible!-
From touching, I burst into tears and lay down face down.
He quickly touched my neck carefully
And he smoked his tongue approvingly.
He whispered: not Gugu!
There are snappers around.
I can help - I can help
Only you do not be silent.
I will cut my feet -
You can chat heresy,
To move the execution,
I will torture longer.
Not a night before execution, but a soul of rest!
And I can’t wait in the morning.
When he begins to burn me and bend in the arc,
I will shout fun: - Stop, a moment, - -
So that the groans with cries remain on the lips!
“What kind of music,” he asked, “give it?”
I confess, I have a weakness for the menuets,
But they have an offenbach in the collection.
It will hurt - cry,
If unbearable, -
The executioner hinted to me.
- Okay, I will take into account.
He encouraged me,
True, he sad himself -
They remember those who are executed
And not those who executed.
Entertained me about the guillotine with a joke,
Calling it only with imitation of an ax
He sympathized with the French court
And not executed, but killed by the Huguenots.
Regretted that the stake in Russia was abolished,
He was lively and poured dates habitually.
He knew for certain - who, where and how he was executed,
And he grieved about those on whom he personally worked.
“Before,” he said, “
I chopped off the shoes
I and the harsh, I shaved,
And he walked with a gun.
Spent the ardor in the void
And destroyed his talent,
And in this post
Turned in the way.
Inappropriately remembered the date of death of Pugachev,
He must have chopped for clarity, with his hand.
And at the same time, I did not know who he was, -
Low Establishment of the executioner.
A steam over tea with a thin snake wriggled,
He blew onto the water, warming his hands on the glass.
About the Inquisition with veneration responded
And about the guardsmen - especially warm.
We drove teas
Suddenly the executioner sobbed -
Say, my sacrifice
Everyone goes to the scandal.
- Ah, you are heavy days
Fumbling Store
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