Venus Milo and Vyacheslav Polonsky
Today I,
poet,
a fighter for the future,
dressed like a fool.
In one hand -
wreath
huge
from the huge,
in another -
from tea -
pink bouquet.
I'm going
through motor gasoline darkness
in the Louvre
.
Folding
on the trouser
straightened nervously;
I do not remember,
did I pay for the ticket;
and so
hall,
and in it
Venerino
desabile.
The first embarrassment.
Disappointed when,
I say:
"Madame!"
By their own free will,
despite the brilliance,
here
nor in life would not prick up skis.
But I
poet of the USSR -
nobles
Licking!
We have
in the republic
your fame does not fade.
Aesthetes
marble from the marble gloss.
In short:
I -
from Vyacheslav
Polonsky.
He has Greek nostrils.
He does not have a soul in you.
is he
poletadisty Liciniev and Lucius,
even editing
and peace",
and "Niva"
and "Printing
and revolution "
.
He asks to convey,
that there is no life for him.
Our Union
gruff for a thin man.
He suffers much there
from the peasant,
from lefs and masters.
He asks to convey,
that, "lef" and "praf" bone,
in Hellad it floats
overclass consciousness.
He dreams
about the Hellenic guests,
about the toga,
about sandals in Ryazan,
hexameter
has changed
Lefovets stanza,
that the Radimovs
jumped along the path
,
and that Radimov
was
not a man, but a faun, -
that the pipe,
gaiters
and horns.
Of course,
should be borne in mind -
at us, madam,
not all are there.
But this I
I pass it on to rubbish.
On her
almost official rubber stamp.
Veleno
at your feet
put
bouquets and a wreath.
Venus,
render honor and happiness,
roll
in his dreams
days of the boat ...
Well,
will be!
It's over with the official part.
Madame,
Adyu! -
No smiles,
no greetings from her lips.
And yet
the crowd
pounding cook
,
break up
without handshakes
due to a complete absence
hands.
I'm coming -
the car is blowing in dudu.
I dance - I do not go.
Home!
Attentive
and it
I'm standing in my window.
Opposite the windows
sleek house
lit with glass ice.
Lights above the house
letters of heat -
garage.
No garage -
God himself!
"Mile of Vaiety,
deux boxing ».
In translation for a simple:
"A thousand cars,
two hundred stalls. "
Comrades!
You
saw Roiles
?
Royls,
which with the wind grew together?
And when it's worth -
whale.
And this
car whale
raise
on the sixth floor!
Stavshi
smaller than mice,
thousand machine kids
sleeps in his arms
garage-colossus.
Waiting for the rudders -
to reach the hand.
And the wheels shine with aluminum,
round,
as fools.
And when
again
they breathe in the dawn
air
million
radiator nostrils,
who will force
and what a fool
nose twirl
on the Louvre and sculpture ?!
The car and Venus are old?
Let it be!
Newer and AHRRs
and roses.
Philistine life
did not become different.
We shake and we are futurstarinoy.
Comrade Polonsky!
We will not allow
lovers of the old
noble manners
in the face of builders
poke corns,
over the centuries
rubbed
from Venus.
1927
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.