| One day, in the cold winter season, I came out of the forest; it was bitterly cold. I see it's slowly going uphill A horse carrying a cart of brushwood. And, walking importantly, in decorous calm, Great, lad! - “Go past!” (A woodcutter’s ax was heard in the forest.) So there it is! What's your name? - “Vlas.” | One winter, a Kolyma tramp, I was digging through the taiga, there was a terrible oak forest. Seku, the horse wanders to the hill, Some guy is ramming in a sleigh. And next to me, chanting for an honest thief, “Great, brother!” - Fuck you! Plowing is a waste for a trump prisoner... “How’s it going, brother?” - Yes, Vlas is my nickname. |
Comments
VAG - here in the slang sense: a respected prisoner who has weight in the criminal world.
CHAMP - go.
DUBNYAK - frost.
SECH - watch. ROCK - in in this case: go. In general, this word is often pronounced with a disdainful connotation: get out of here! Or even - kochumai! What does it mean - stop it, fuck off. In a certain context - shut up, etc. (that is, stop any action).
RAM – carry, carry.
OBAPOL – waste from log processing. The sides of the log are cut off on both sides, the fallen slabs are the two floors. In popular dialects, obapol means: around, about (from the Church Slavonic “both sexes” - on both sides there are floors, that is, on both sides of clothing). In the north you will often hear from Siberians: “Say the matter, don’t walk around and talk about it!”
PAY FOR AN HONEST THIEF - pose as an authoritative criminal. If you don’t come up with a suit, it means you’re drying up. Your head will be torn off.
UNDER THE GILLS - gills in general: throat or lungs. Take it by the gills - by the throat. In this case, under the gills - under the knots. In relation to people, taking them under the gills is the same as twisting their flippers: twisting their arms and escorting them.
LOCHMAN - a sucker means a simpleton. And a lochman is an extremely simpleton, which is why it is ironic that “man” is added - a man. There is praise: “Well, you’re a man!” In general, the underworld borrowed the word “sucker” in the 19th century from the secret language of wandering peddlers - peddlers, or peddlers. In the Ofen language, a man was called a “sucker”: “The suckers were drinking klygi and gomza” (“The men treated them to mash and wine”). Even then, the word had a connotation of disdain, as evidenced by the feminine form “lokha” (or “solokha”) - a fool, a sluggish, stupid woman. This is understandable: traveling merchants were always cheating simple-minded villagers.
But the ofeni scammers also did not invent the “sucker”, but borrowed it from the inhabitants of the Russian North. This is how salmon, a fish of the salmon family, has long been called in the Arkhangelsk province and other places. White Sea suckers are a rather stupid and slow fish, and therefore extremely convenient for fishing. As evidenced, for example, by the poetic lines of Fyodor Glinka, who wrote in the poem “Maiden of the Karelian Forests” (1828):
That son of Karela is silent
Sleepy swarm of careless suckers
Disturbs with a well-aimed spear.
WHEELS WITH creaking – brand new shoes, still creaking. There may be shoes, shoes, boots.
PEASHLAT - a prisoner's winter sheepskin coat.
WITH AN ACE ON THE BACK - previously a convict had a yellow diamond sewn on his back to make it easier to hit him in the back when escaping. According to the recollections of some convicts (I think Yakubovich), aces were also black (depending on the color of clothing). Remember from Blok: “You need an ace of diamonds on your back.” Sticking an ace of diamonds means sending him to a mansion, to a special regime colony, where especially dangerous repeat offenders serve out their sentences.
WITH GULKIN HORSERADISH - common folk: small, like the penis of a pigeon (“gulki”).
BRATISHKA - also brother, bro, bratka, bratella: the address of tramps to each other. They are all like brothers and sisters to each other.
WATCH THE MARKET - either filter the market, or knit a broom: watch what you say, you allow yourself too much.
WRITE - cut with a knife. You can do it to death, but more often you can pee a little, or you can paint your face so that mom doesn’t find out.
THE FUCK ARE YOU, OPERA? - a common phrase. The answer to someone who wants to know a lot. Idle inquiries among the lads are not welcome.
PLOW - work tirelessly.
WEST - either for a bastard, or as a bastard: shameful, disgraceful, unworthy. For a representative of a high suit (thief, trump fraer) to plow is really a waste. Although there are situations...
FAMILY - they also say Kentovka: a small association of prisoners who support each other, share grub, junk, write for their family members in front of others (defend that is). In the St. Petersburg zones, however, “family people” prefer not to say: it’s very similar to “semen people”, a bad association...
MAN is a respectful description of a tramp, a convict: “This is a man!” Or from the “muzhiks” (prisoners who plow and quietly drag out their sentences) they single out those close to the thieves’ brotherhood - “a man-man”, or a “thieves’ man”. And “people” are authoritative convicts (previously only thieves were called that).
KODLJAK – also kodla, kodlo: gathering, company.
BACLANYO - collective from cormorant: a prisoner who likes to scandalize, make noise, runs into trouble. Such people are treated with contempt.
POGONYALO - nickname, nickname. The same thing - a clique. Last word they don’t like it now. “The dog has a call, I have a rattle.”
EXCHANGE - to serve a certain part of the sentence imposed by the court.
DISAPPEAR WITHOUT GRIEF – disappear without complications.
I'm in the village again. I go hunting
I write my verses - life is easy,
Yesterday, tired of walking through the swamp,
I wandered into the barn and fell asleep deeply.
Woke up: in the wide cracks of the barn
The rays of the sun look cheerful.
The dove coos; flying over the roof,
The young rooks are screaming,
Some other bird is also flying -
I recognized the crow just by the shadow;
Chu! some kind of whisper... but here’s a line
Along the slit of attentive eyes!
All gray, brown, blue eyes -
Mixed together like flowers in a field.
There is so much peace, freedom and affection in them,
There is so much holy kindness in them!
I child's eye I love the expression
I always recognize him.
I froze: tenderness touched my soul...
Chu! whisper again!
Beard!
And the master, they said!..
Be quiet, you devils!
A bar doesn't have a beard - it's a mustache.
And the legs are long, like poles.
Fourth
And look, there’s a watch on the hat!Ay, important thing!
And the gold chain...
Is tea expensive?
How the sun burns!
And there is a dog - big, big!
Water runs from the tongue.
Gun! look at this: the trunk is double,
Carved locks...
(with fear)
Look!Fourth
Shut up, nothing! Let's wait a little longer, Grisha!Will kill...
My spies were afraid
And they rushed away: when they heard the man,
So sparrows fly from the chaff in a flock.
I fell silent, squinted - they appeared again,
Little eyes flicker in the cracks.
What happened to me - they marveled at everything
And my verdict was pronounced:
“What kind of hunting is such and such a goose doing?
I would lie on the stove!
And, apparently, not a master: as he rode from the swamp,
So next to Gavrila...” - If he hears, be silent! —
O dear rogues! Who has seen them often?
He, I believe, loves peasant children;
But even if you hated them,
The reader, as a “low kind of people,” -
I still have to confess openly,
That I often envy them:
There is so much poetry in their lives,
God bless your spoiled children.
Happy people! No science, no bliss
They do not know in childhood.
I made mushroom raids with them:
I dug up leaves, rummaged through stumps,
I tried to spot a mushroom place,
And in the morning I couldn’t find it for anything.
“Look, Savosya, what a ring!”
We both bent down and grabbed it at once
Snake! I jumped: the sting hurt!
Savosya laughs: “I just got caught!”
But then we destroyed them quite a lot
And they laid them in a row on the railing of the bridge.
We must have been waiting for exploits of glory,
We had a long road:
People of working class scurried about
There are no numbers on it.
Ditch digger - Vologda resident,
Tinker, tailor, wool beater,
And then a city dweller goes to the monastery
On the eve of the holiday he is ready to pray.
Under our thick, ancient elms
Tired people were drawn to rest.
The guys will surround: the stories will begin
About Kyiv, about the Turk, about wonderful animals.
Some people will play around, so just hold on -
It will start from Volochok and will reach Kazan!
Chukhna will imitate, Mordovians, Cheremis,
And he will amuse you with a fairy tale, and tell you a parable:
“Goodbye, guys! Try your best
Please God for everything.
We had Vavilo, he lived richer than everyone else,
Yes, I once decided to murmur against God, -
Since then, Vavilo has become seedy and bankrupt,
No honey from the bees, no harvest from the earth,
And there was only one happiness for him,
That nose hair grew a lot..."
The worker will arrange, lay out the shells -
Planes, files, chisels, knives:
“Look, little devils!” And the children are happy
How you saw, how you fooled - show them everything.
A passerby will fall asleep to his jokes,
Guys get to work - sawing and planing!
If they use a saw, you can’t sharpen it in a day!
They break the drill and run away in fear.
It happened that whole days flew by here -
Like a new passerby, there's a new story...
Wow, it’s hot!.. We were picking mushrooms until noon.
They came out of the forest - just towards
A blue ribbon, winding, long,
Meadow river: they jumped off in a crowd,
And brown heads above a deserted river
What porcini mushrooms in a forest clearing!
The river resounded with both laughter and howling:
Here a fight is not a fight, a game is not a game...
And the sun beats down on them with the midday heat.
Home, kids! it's time for lunch.
We're back. Everyone has a basket full,
And how many stories! Got caught with a scythe
We caught a hedgehog and got a little lost
And they saw a wolf... oh, what a scary one!
The hedgehog is offered flies and boogers,
I gave him my root milk -
Doesn't drink! retreated...
Who catches leeches
On the lava, where the uterus beats the laundry,
Who is babysitting his two-year-old sister Glashka,
Who carries a bucket of kvass to reap,
And he, tying his shirt under his throat,
Mysteriously draws something in the sand;
That one got stuck in a puddle, and this one with a new one:
I wove myself a glorious wreath, -
Everything is white, yellow, lavender
Yes, occasionally a red flower.
Those sleep in the sun, those dance squatting.
Here is a girl catching a horse with a basket:
She caught it, jumped up and rode it.
And is it her, born under the sunny heat
And brought home from the field in an apron,
Afraid of your humble horse?..
The mushroom time has not yet left,
Look, everyone’s lips are so black,
They filled the ears: the blueberries are ripe!
And there are raspberries, lingonberries, and nuts!
A childish cry echoed
From morning to night it thunders through the forests.
Scared by singing, hooting, laughter,
Will the black grouse take off, cooing to her chicks?
If the little hare jumps up - sodomy, turmoil!
Here is an old capercaillie with a faded wing
I was messing around in the bush... well, the poor thing feels bad!
The living one is dragged to the village in triumph...
“That’s enough, Vanyusha! you walked a lot,
It’s time to get to work, dear!”
But even labor will turn out first
To Vanyusha with his elegant side:
He sees his father fertilizing the field,
Like throwing grain into loose ground,
As the field then begins to turn green,
As the ear grows, it pours grain.
The ready harvest will be cut with sickles,
They will tie them up in sheaves and take them to Riga,
They dry it out, they beat and beat with flails,
At the mill they grind and bake bread.
A child will taste fresh bread
And in the field he runs more willingly after his father.
Will they wind up the hay: “Climb up, little shooter!”
Vanyusha enters the village as a king...
However, envy in a noble child
We would be sorry to sow.
So, we have to wrap it up by the way
The other side is the medal.
Let's say peasant child free
Growing up without learning anything
But he will grow up, if God wants,
And nothing prevents him from bending.
Suppose he knows the forest paths,
Prancing on horseback, not afraid of water,
But the midges eat it mercilessly,
But he is familiar with the work early...
One day, in the cold winter season
I came out of the forest; it was bitterly cold.
I see it's slowly going uphill
A horse carrying a cart of brushwood.
And walking importantly, in decorous calm,
A man leads a horse by the bridle
In big boots, in a short sheepskin coat,
In big mittens... and he's as small as a fingernail!
“Great, lad!” - Go past! —
“You’re so formidable, as I can see!
Where do the firewood come from? - From the forest, of course;
Father, you hear, chops, and I take it away.
(A woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.) -
“What, does your father have a big family?”
— The family is big, two people
Just men: my father and I... -
“So there it is! What’s your name?”
- Vlas. —
“How old are you?” — The sixth has passed...
Well, dead! - the little one shouted in a deep voice,
He pulled the reins and walked faster.
The sun was shining on this picture so much,
The child was so hilariously small
As if it was all cardboard,
As if in children's theater I got it!
But the boy was a living, real boy,
And wood, and brushwood, and a piebald horse,
And the snow lying up to the windows of the village,
AND winter sun cold fire -
Everything, everything was real Russian,
With the stigma of an unsociable, deadening winter.
What is so painfully sweet to the Russian soul,
What Russian thoughts inspire in the minds,
Those honest thoughts that have no will,
For which there is no death - don’t push,
In which there is so much anger and pain,
In which there is so much love!
Play, children! Grow in freedom!
That's why you were given a wonderful childhood,
To love this meager field forever,
So that it always seems sweet to you.
Keep your centuries-old inheritance,
Love your labor bread -
And let the charm of childhood poetry
Leads you into the depths of your native land!..
Now it's time for us to return to the beginning.
Noticing that the guys had become bolder,
“Hey, thieves are coming! - I shouted to Fingal. —
They will steal, they will steal! Well, hide it quickly!”
Shiner made a serious face,
I buried my belongings under the hay,
I hid the game with special care,
He lay down at my feet and growled angrily.
The vast field of canine science
She was perfectly familiar to him;
He started doing things like this,
That the audience couldn't leave their seats,
They marvel and laugh! There's no time for fear here!
They command themselves! “Fingalka, die!” —
“Don’t freeze, Sergei! Don’t push, Kuzyakha!”
“Look - he’s dying - look!”
I myself enjoyed lying in the hay,
Their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark
In the barn: the stage gets dark so quickly,
When the storm is destined to break out.
And sure enough: the blow thundered over the barn,
A river of rain poured into the barn,
The actor burst into a deafening bark,
And the audience gave the go-ahead!
The wide door opened, creaked,
It hit the wall and locked itself again.
I looked out: a dark cloud hung
Just above our theater.
The kids ran in the heavy rain
Barefoot to their village...
Faithful Fingal and I waited out the storm
And they went out to look for snipes.
I'm in the village again. I go hunting, I write my verses - life is easy. Yesterday, tired from walking through the swamp, I wandered into the barn and fell asleep deeply. I woke up: the rays of the cheerful sun were peeping through the wide cracks of the barn. The dove coos; flying over the roof, young rooks screaming; Some other bird was also flying - I recognized the crow from the shadow; Chu! some kind of whisper... but here is a line along the crack of attentive eyes! All gray, brown, blue eyes - Mixed together like flowers in a field. There is so much peace, freedom and affection in them, There is so much holy kindness in them! I love the expression of a child’s eye, I always recognize it. I froze: tenderness touched my soul... Chu! whisper again! F irst g o l o s Beard! Second A master, they said!.. Third Quiet you devils! Second: A bar doesn't have a beard - it's a mustache. First And the legs are long, like poles. Fourth And there’s a clock on his hat, look! P i ty y Ay, important thing! Sixth And the golden chain... Seventh Tea, is it expensive? Eighth How the sun burns! D eve And there is a dog - big, big! Water runs from the tongue. P i t y Shotgun! look at it: the double barrel, the carved locks... T h i r d (with fear) Look! FOURTH Keep quiet, nothing! Let's wait a little longer, Grisha! The third one will kill... _______________ My spies were frightened and rushed away: when they heard a man, So sparrows fly from the chaff in a flock. I calmed down, squinted - they appeared again, Little eyes flickering through the cracks. What happened to me - they marveled at everything and pronounced my verdict: - What kind of hunting is such and such a goose! I would lie on the stove! And it’s clear that it’s not a master: as he rode from the swamp, So next to Gavrila... - “If he hears, be silent!” _______________ O dear rogues! Whoever has seen them often, I believe, loves peasant children; But even if you hated them, Reader, as “a low kind of people,” I still must admit openly, That I often envy them: So much poetry is poured into their lives, As God forbid your spoiled children. Happy people! They know neither science nor bliss in childhood. I made mushroom forays with them: I dug up leaves, rummaged through stumps, tried to spot a mushroom spot, but in the morning I couldn’t find it for anything. “Look, Savosya, what a ring!” We both bent down and grabbed the Snake at the same time! I jumped: the sting hurt! Savosya laughs: “I just got caught!” But then we destroyed them quite a lot and laid them in a row on the railing of the bridge. We must have expected glory for our exploits. We had a big road: There were countless people scurrying along it. A Vologda ditch digger, a tinker, a tailor, a wool-beater, and then a city dweller goes to the monastery to pray on holiday. Under our thick ancient elms, tired people were drawn to rest. The guys will surround you: stories will begin about Kyiv, about the Turk, about wonderful animals. Some people will play around, just hold on - He will start from Volochok, and will reach Kazan. richer than all, Yes, one day he decided to grumble at God, - Since then, Vavilo has become seedy, ruined, There is no honey from the bees, no harvest from the earth, And only in one thing was his happiness, That the hairs grew out of his nose a lot...” The worker will arrange, arrange shells - Planes, files, chisels, knives: “Look, little devils!” And the children are happy, How you saw, how you tinker, show them everything. A passer-by will fall asleep under your jokes, The guys get to work - sawing and planing! The days flew by, - A new passer-by, a new story... Wow, it’s hot! desert river Like porcini mushrooms in a forest clearing! The river resounded with laughter and howling: Here a fight is not a fight, a game is not a game... And the sun scorches them with the midday heat. - Home, kids! It's time for lunch. - We're back. Everyone has a basket full, And so many stories! Got caught with a scythe, caught a hedgehog, got a little lost and saw a wolf... wow, what a scary one! They offer the hedgehog flies and boogers, I gave him my Root milk - He doesn’t drink! retreated... Who catches leeches On the lava, where the queen beats the laundry, Who nurses his sister, two-year-old Glashka, Who drags a bucket of kvass for reaping, And he, tying his shirt under his throat, Mysteriously draws something in the sand; That one huddled in a puddle, and this one with a new one: She wove herself a glorious wreath, All white, yellow, lavender, and occasionally a red flower. Those sleep in the sun, those dance squatting. Here is a girl catching a horse with a basket - she caught it, jumped up and rode it. And is she, born under the sunny heat and brought home from the field in an apron, to be afraid of her humble horse?.. The mushroom time has not yet had time to depart, Look - everyone’s lips are so black, They’ve filled their lips: the blueberry is ripe! And there are raspberries, lingonberries, and nuts! A childish cry, echoed, thunders through the forests from morning to night. Frightened by singing, hooting, laughter, Will the grouse take off, squawking at the chicks, Will the little hare jump up - soda, turmoil! Here is an old capercaillie with a faded wing, busy in the bush... well, the poor thing feels bad! They drag the living one into the village in triumph... - Enough, Vanyusha! You’ve been walking a lot, It’s time to get to work, dear! - But even work will first turn out to Vanyusha with its elegant side: He sees how his father fertilizes the field, How he throws grain into the loose soil, How the field then begins to turn green, How the ear grows, pours grain ; The finished harvest will be cut with sickles, tied into sheaves, taken to the barn, dried, pounded and pounded with flails, ground in a mill and baked. The child tastes the fresh bread and runs more willingly into the field after his father. Will they wind up the hay: “Climb up, little shooter!” Vanyusha enters the village as a king... However, it would be a pity for us to sow envy in a noble child. So, by the way, we must wrap the medal with the other side. Suppose a peasant child grows up freely without learning anything, but he will grow up if God pleases, and nothing prevents him from bending. Suppose he knows the forest paths, prances on horseback, is not afraid of water, but the midges eat him mercilessly, but he knows the work early... One day, in the chilly winter season, I came out of the forest; it was bitterly cold. I see a horse slowly ascending the mountain, carrying a cart of brushwood. And, walking importantly, in decorous calm, the horse is led by the bridle by a peasant in large boots, in a short sheepskin coat, and in large mittens. ..and from the nail itself! - Great, lad! - “Go past!” - You’re too formidable, as I can see! Where did the firewood come from? - “From the forest, of course; Father, you hear, chops, and I take it away.” (A woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.) - What, does your father have a big family? “It’s a big family, but two people. Just men: my father and me...” - So that’s it! What is your name? - “Vlas”. - How old are you? - “The sixth year has passed... Well, she’s dead!” - the little one shouted in a deep voice, pulled the reins and walked faster. The sun was shining so much on this picture, The child was so hilariously small, As if it was all cardboard, As if I was in a children's theater! But the boy was a living boy, a real one, And the firewood, and the brushwood, and the piebald horse, And the snow that lay up to the windows of the village, And the cold fire of the winter sun - Everything, everything was real Russian, With the stigma of an unsociable, deadening winter, Which is so true for the Russian soul It’s painfully sweet, That Russian thoughts instill in the minds, Those honest thoughts that have no will, For which there is no death - don’t push, In which there is so much anger and pain, In which there is so much love! Play, children! Grow in freedom! That's why you were given a red childhood, So that you can forever love this meager field, So that it always seems sweet to you. Keep your centuries-old inheritance, Love your labor bread - And let the charm of childhood poetry Guide you into the depths of your native land!.. _______________ Now it’s time for us to return to the beginning. Noticing that the guys had become bolder, “Hey, thieves are coming!” I shouted to Fingal: “They’ll steal, they’ll steal!” Well, hide it quickly!” Shiner made a serious face, buried my belongings under the hay, hid the game with special care, lay down at my feet and growled angrily. The vast field of canine science was perfectly familiar to Him; He started doing such things that the audience couldn’t leave their seats. They marvel and laugh! There's no time for fear here! They command themselves! - “Fingalka, die!” - Don’t freeze, Sergei! Don’t push, Kuzyakha, - “Look - he’s dying - look!” I myself enjoyed, lying in the hay, their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark in the barn: it darkens so quickly on the stage, When a thunderstorm is destined to break out. And sure enough: the blow thundered over the barn, a river of rain poured into the barn, the actor burst into a deafening bark, and the audience gave a shout! The wide door unlocked, creaked, hit the wall, and locked again. I looked out: a dark cloud was hanging just above our theater. In the heavy rain, the children ran barefoot to their village... My faithful Fingal and I waited out the storm and went out to look for great snipes.
THE GUY WITH A NAIL
One day, in the cold winter season,
I came out of the forest; it was bitterly cold.
I see it's slowly going uphill
A horse carrying a cart of brushwood.
And, walking importantly, in decorous calm.
A man leads a horse by the bridle
In big boots, in a short sheepskin coat,
In big mittens... and he's as small as a fingernail!
- Great, lad! - “Go past!”
- You’re too formidable, as I can see!
Where do the firewood come from? - “From the forest, of course;
Father, you hear, chops, and I take it away.”
(A woodcutter’s ax was heard in the forest.)
- What, does your father have a big family? -
“The family is big, but two people
Just men: my father and I...”
- So there it is! What's your name? -
"Vlas."
- How old are you? - “The sixth has passed...
Well, she’s dead!” - the little one shouted in a deep voice.
He pulled the reins and walked faster...
PEASANT CHILDREN
Wow, it’s hot!.. We were picking mushrooms until noon.
They came out of the forest - just towards
A blue ribbon, winding, long.
Meadow river: they jumped off in a crowd,
And brown heads above a deserted river
What porcini mushrooms in a forest clearing!
The river resounded with laughter and howling:
Here a fight is not a fight, a game is not a game...
And the sun beats down on them with the midday heat.
Home, kids! It's time for lunch.
We're back. Everyone has a basket full,
And how many stories! Got caught with a scythe
We caught a hedgehog and got a little lost
And they saw a wolf... oh, what a scary one!
The hedgehog is offered flies and boogers.
I gave him my root milk -
Doesn't drink! They retreated...
Who catches leeches
On the lava, where the uterus beats the laundry,
Who is babysitting his little sister, two-year-old Glashka,
Who carries a bucket of kvass to reap,
And he, tying his shirt under his throat,
Mysteriously draws something in the sand;
That one got stuck in a puddle, and this one with a new one:
I wove myself a nice wreath.
Everything is white, yellow, lavender
Yes, occasionally a red flower.
Those sleep in the sun, those dance squatting.
Here is a girl catching a horse with a basket:
She caught it, jumped up and rode it.
And is it her, born under the sunny heat
And brought home from the field in an apron.
Afraid of your humble horse?..
The mushroom time has not yet left,
Look - everyone’s lips are so black.
They filled the ears: the blueberries are ripe!
And there are raspberries, lingonberries, and nuts!
A childish cry echoed
From morning to night it thunders through the forests.
Scared by singing, hooting, laughter.
Will the black grouse take off, cooing to her chicks?
If the little hare jumps up - sodom, turmoil!
Here is an old capercaillie with a faded wing
I was messing around in the bush... well, the poor thing feels bad!
The living one is dragged to the village in triumph.
MOROZ-VOIVODA
It is not the wind that rages over the forest,
Streams did not run from the mountains -
Moroz the voivode on patrol
Walks around his possessions.
Looks to see if the snowstorm is good
The forest paths have been taken over,
And are there any cracks, crevices,
And is there any bare ground somewhere?
Are the tops of the pines fluffy?
Is the pattern on oak trees beautiful?
And are the ice floes tightly bound?
In great and small waters?
He walks and walks through the trees.
Cracking on frozen water,
And bright sun plays
In his shaggy beard...
Climbing onto a large pine tree.
Hitting the branches with a club
And I’ll delete it to myself,
Sings a boastful song:
“...Blizzards, snow and fog
Always submissive to the frost,
I'll go to the sea-oceans -
I will build palaces from ice.
I'll think about it - the rivers are big
I'll hide you under oppression for a long time,
I will build ice bridges.
Which ones the people will not build.
Where are the fast, noisy waters
Recently flowed freely -
Pedestrians passed by today.
Convoys with goods passed...
I'm rich, I don't count the treasury
And everything is not lacking in goodness;
I'm taking away my kingdom
In diamonds, pearls, silver..."
SASHA
In the winter twilight, nanny's tales
Sasha loved. In the morning in the sled
Sasha sat down, flew like an arrow,
Full of happiness, from the icy mountain.
The nanny shouts: “Don’t kill yourself, dear!”
Sasha, pushing your sled.
He runs merrily. At full speed
The sled is on one side - and Sasha is in the snow!
Your braids will come loose, your fur coat will become disheveled
Shakes off the snow, laughs, little dove!
The gray-haired nanny has no time for grumbling:
She loves her young laughter...
I decided to collect in one place all the versions of the famous poem by Nekrasov known to the skotinki, sorted in order from the least degree of hellishness to the greatest in the opinion of the skotinki. Banal options are furiously eliminated.
Stock up on air so you have something to laugh at. So...
I left the house to take a shit in the cold.
A boy pulling a mare by the tail.
Hello boy!
- Fuck you..!
- Why are you swearing?
- Did *** stick around?
- Where do the firewood come from?
- We're dismantling the barn.
Father, listen, ***
And I ran away.
Ass blows were heard in the forest.
- What, does your father have a big family?
- How to eat - so fifteen,
Like *** - so two,
My father is the last bastard
Yes I am.
I left the forest. It was very hot.
I see it's slowly going uphill
Akhmet Mukhamet and some firewood.
- Where do the bones come from?
- We know from the forest.
Father, do you hear, is being chopped down, and I am taking him away.
Once upon a time in the cold winter
I'm sitting behind bars in a damp dungeon.
I look - it is slowly rising up the mountain
A young eagle raised in captivity.
And walking with an important, decorous gait,
My sad comrade, flapping his wing,
It's pecking at bloody food under the window...
Once upon a time in the cold winter
Great Rus' united forever.
I see it's slowly going uphill
One mighty Soviet Union.
And walking importantly, in decorous calm
Lenin illuminated our great path for us.
In big boots, in a short sheepskin coat
He inspired us on our path and deeds.
One day, in the cold winter season
The elf came out of the forest - it was bitterly cold
Looks, slowly rises up the mountain
A cart laden with Mordorian rings.
Walking importantly, with a decorous gait
A little man leads the horse by the bridle,
In elven trousers, a sheepskin coat
And in mittens up to his ears, but without boots.
- Hello, furry!
- Go by!
You're too menacing, as I can see.
Where are the rings from?
- From the river, of course,
Gollum, listen, he dives, and I take him away.
In the forest blows to the face were heard,
Just two minutes of work:
Soon Gollum will drown the Nazgul in the swamp,
He'll take the ring and drag it here.
- Why do you need so much?
- Yes, the demand is huge:
To all the gnomes, so that they don't get lice,
On the finger, in the nostril and in the navel of Sauron,
And Gandalf and the Balrog, so as not to fight.
- Listen, furry one, what’s your name?
-Frodo.
-How old are you?
- I already have fifty dollars.
Where do you such freaks live?
- For this we get a slap in the face, or we might even eat you.
It was not hot in the snow for the furry paws,
And Gollum screamed very wildly in the bushes.
“And Elbereth!” the little one shouted obscenities,
He pulled the reins and walked faster.
Once upon a time in the hot summer
I walked along the dune; the heat was very fierce.
I look - it is slowly rising up the mountain
A heavily laden Bactrian camel.
And marching is important, like a horse in a parade,
A Bedouin leads a camel into custody -
In big dudes, in a long robe,
In a high turban, and himself with a carabiner.
"Salaam, true believer!" "Step by!"
“You’re so formidable, as I can see!
Where did the camel come from?" "From the caravan, of course.
Father, do you hear, robs, and I take away."
The call of the muezzin was heard in the distance...
“What, does your father have a rich harem?”
"The harem is rich, but only men -
My father and me. We're completely fed up!"
"What's your name?" "Ali Ben ***
“How old are you?” "Allah will sort it out!"
"Go, Satan!" - he barked at the camel,
He pulled the ropes and stomped forward.
Once upon a time in the cold winter
a horse moaning loudly uphill
dragged, farting, *** cart.
And it was fucking not just frost outside,
and *** your mother is about a hundred degrees.
And next to him is a boy in a *** coat
with an icicle in her nose he helped her with a whip,
covering the black eye with the other hand.
- Great, lad!
"Fuck yourself ***
- Wow! Well, you're fucking impudent, I'll take a look...
Where is the horse from?
***, fuck, fucked.
Father, do you hear, *** And I’ll take you away.”
(Horse thief whistles were heard in the village)
- What, does your father have a big family?
“It’s a big family... Do you need ***?
What the fuck are you, Malakhov? *** ***
- Okay, don’t be angry... What’s your name?
"Lena." - So you’re a fucking girl?!
"And you - ***
And crushing a loose snowdrift with my knee,
whipped the horse. And disappeared from sight.
Once upon a time in the cold winter
I didn’t walk on foot like a sucker through the forests
I went up the mountain in my jeep
Suddenly - a cart of brushwood comes from around the corner!
I went to find out. In decorous calm
A man leads a horse by the bridle
He slightly hit the side of the jeep
It’s a shame, however, for the skinned side
“You got it, you goat!” “Yes, I was driving by...”
“Yes, you’re without money, as far as I can see!
Where do the firewood come from? " "From the forest, apparently..."
“Don’t be afraid, I’ll handle everything wisely!
I won’t overload the woodcutter!
Are you not getting paid? Large family? "
"The family is big. There are two people in it
One of them is me, and the second one is me too! "