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BUT. Voronsky

1

«Village, so, ours - Radovo,
households, Honor, two are.
So, who looked around him,
Priyatstvenno our seats.
We are rich in forest and vodyu,
there are pastures, there are fields.
And to please everyone
planted poplar.

We are very important not climb,
Yet given us happiness.
Yards have iron roofs,
In every sad and gumno.
Each crash shutters,
On holidays, meat and kvass.
No wonder when a police captain
I loved to stay with us.

Dues we paid on time,
But - the formidable Judge - foreman
Always added to quitrent
As flour and millet.
And to avoid the scourge,
The surplus we had no hardships.
Time - power, then, they power,
And we are only ordinary people.

But the people - all the sinful soul.
Many eyes - fangs.
From the nearby village Kriushi
Askance at us guys.
Habitation have been bad -
Almost the whole village at a gallop
Pahala one sohoyu
On a pair of worn-out nags.

What is already here waiting abundances, —
There would be a soul alive.
Stealthily they cut
From our forest wood.
Once we caught them…
They axes, we identity.
From dings and grinding steel
The body rolling tremor.

The murder scandal smells.
And our, and their guilt
Suddenly some of them as ahnet! —
And immediately killed Sergeant.
At our gathering bydlastoy
We breadth of business conditions.
judged. Scored in the stocks
And the ten sent away to Siberia.
Since then, we neuryady.
I rolled with happiness rein.
Almost three years in a row
We have the case, the fire ".

* * *

Such sad news
The driver I sang all the way.
I Radovskiy suburbs
I went then relax.

War my whole soul izela.
For someone else's interest
I shot in my body close
And chest at his brother climb.
I understood, I - Toy,
At the rear, the merchants know yes,
AND, firmly leave of guns,
I decided to fight only in verse.
I threw my rifle,
I bought a "lime", and so
With such a preparation
I met the 17th year.

Liberty shot up furiously.
And pink and stinking fire
Then over the land kalifstvoval
Bell Kerenskyy to Kone.
War "to the end", "To win".
And the same homespun army
Scoundrels and parasites
Rounded up to the front die.
But still I did not take the sword…
Under the rumble and roar of mortars
Another showed me courage -
It was the country's first deserter.

* * *

The road is quite good,
Nice Frigid units.
Luna Gold of dust
Showered distance villages.
"Well, here it is, our Radovo, —
Promolvyl voznytsa, —
Here!
No wonder I put the horse
For her temper and arrogance.
Please let, citizen, of chaishko.
Melnyk you for mercy?
so there!..
I demand from you without excess
For further a run ".
. . . . . . . . . . .
I give sorokovke.
"Few!»
I give twenty.
"Not!»
Such small disgusting.
A small thirty years.
"What are you?
Do you have the soul?
What are you rowing with me?»
And it meets the carcass:
"Today is a bad rye.
Let's unvoiced
Il stuff dozen six -
I drink in the tavern brew
To your health and honor…»

* * *

And here I am at the mill…
Elnyk
Showered svechmi fireflies.
Joy old miller
Can not say two words:
"darling! Yes Do you?
Serhuha!
Ozyab, tea? Come chilled?
Yes Put you soon, old woman,
Samovar on the table and pie!»

In April prozyabnut hard,
Especially since the end.
It was thoughtfully wonderful evening,
How to be friends smile in the face.
Embrace miller cool,
From them roar and the Bear,
But still in bad moments
It's nice to have friends.

"How? How long?»
"For a year".
"Well, so, buddy, play!
Sim summer berries and mushrooms
We have more than enough even in Moscow.
And the game here, my boy, to hell,
Itself as a powder and pret.
Think it is only…
Fourth
You did not see us year…»
. . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . .

The conversation is over…
dutifully
We drank the whole samovar.
The old coat with sheepskin
I go to his barn.
I go overgrown garden,
A person touches lilac.
So my dear broken out views
aged fence.
Once at the gate of the won
I was sixteen years old,
And the girl in a white cape
He told me gently: "Not!»
distant, It was cute.
The image is not extinguished in me…
We all loved the years,
But little loved us.

2

"Well! Get up, sergus!
Dawn also did not flow,
The old woman for a sweet soul
Oladev you napekla.
I did something now leave
By the landowner Snegina…
Her
Yesterday for lunch I nastrelyal
Lovely snipe ".

Hello to you, life Lucifer!
I get up, dress, I go.
Smoke gives rosyanitsa
On white apple in the garden.
I think:
How wonderful
Land
And her man.
And how many war casualties
Now freaks and cripples!
And how much buried in pits!
And how many more will bury!
And I am feeling in the cheeks stubborn
Brutal cheeks sudorgi.

Not, not!
I will not go forever!
for this, that some scum
Throws a soldier crippled
Nickle or dime in the mud.

"Well, good morning, old woman!
Did you say something a little passed…»
And I hear through the muffled cough:
"Things are overpowered, affairs.
We are now the restless.
Sweat bloomed all.
Solid peasant war -
Fighting village to village.
I myself with my own ears
I heard from parishioners:
That radovtsev beat kriushane,
That radovtsy beat kriushan.
And all this, so, bezvlaste.
banished king…
so here…
Showered with all adversity
In our foolish people.
Opened for some reason, forts,
Let swashbuckling villains.
Now on the road
Peace does not know them.
Here, too,, let's… C Kriushi…
They need to be used to jail for prison,
they w, thieving soul,
We returned back home.
They've got Pron Ogloblin,
Buldıjnik, dračun, boor.
He was always at all bitter,
In the morning drunk for weeks.
And in a brazen tretevom year,
When declared war,
With all the honest people
Ax officers killed.
now there are thousands became
Freedom to create filth.
Russia is lost, missing…
Killed nurse Rus…»

I remembered the story of the driver
AND, taking his hat and cane,
Peasants went to worship,
Like an old friend and a guest.

* * *

I go pale blue track
And I see - to meet me
I carried my miller on droshky
According to still loose virgin.
"Serhuha! For a sweet soul!
billeting, I will tell you!
Now! Give correct rein,
Then you ogloushu.
Why did you give me a word in the morning?
I Snegina and breakpoint:
I come to me, breakwater, happy
One young eccentric.
. . . . . . . . . . .
They are very welcome to me,
I know them for ten years.)
And their daughter married Anna
I asked:
- Is not, poet?
- Well, Yes, - I say, - he is.
- Blonde?
- Well, of course, blond!
- with curly hair?
- Funny is Mr.!
- When he arrived?
- Recently,.
- Brother, mammy, it's him!
You know,
He was funny
Once in love with me.
It was a modest boy,
And now…
Drat…
here…
Writer…
known bump…
Without a request to us so do not come ".

And the miller, as though with a win,
Sly squint eyes:
"Well, okay! Goodbye to lunch!
Others will keep in reserve ".

I walked along the road to Kriushi
And cane knocks green fields.
Nothing broke my heart,
Nothing can bother me.
Jet smells sweet,
And in his mind he was a drunken haze…
Now would be a beautiful soldier
To have a good novel.

* * *

But here Kriusha…
Three years
Not mature, I know roofs.
Lilac weather
Lilac sprinkled silence.
I can not hear the dog barking,
There is nothing, it is seen, guard -
Each hut rotten,
And in the house so the furnace tongs.
I look, on the porch in Pron
Loudmouthed peasant hubbub.
Talk about new laws,
On the prices of cattle and rye.
"It's great, friends!»
"E, hunter!
awesome, awesome!
sit down!
Listen to you, bezzabotnik,
About our peasant zhist.
What's new in Peter heard?
with the Minister, tea, because the sign?
not without reason, edrit in your tongue,
You were raised fist.
But all we will not defame.
You - my own way, peasant, our,
Boaster glory not
And his heart will not sell.
You visited us watchful and zealous,
Himself took out on the underside…
Tell:
Depart whether farmers
Without compensation of arable land lords?
shout at us,
What land do not touch,
I have not yet come, breakwater, moment.
What, then, at the front
We destroy ourselves and others?»

And everyone with a smile gloomy
He looked me in the face and eyes,
And I, weighed down by a thought,
He could not say anything.
shaking, swayed stage,
but remember
The ringing of the head:
"Tell,
Who is Lenin?»
I quietly replied:
"He - you".

3

Squatting crawling rumors,
judged, solved, shepcha.
And I'm on my old woman
Suffice it received them.
once, returning with traction,
I went to take a nap on the sofa.
Jagger marsh moisture,
I proznobil fog.
shook me, in a fever,
Cast the cold, then the heat
And in this damn fit
I spent four days.

My miller mad, know, crazy.
went,
Someone brought…
I saw a white dress
Yes, someone's nose privzdernuty.
Then, when it became easier,
When I stopped tryas,
On the fifth day in the evening
Cold my settled.
I wake up.
It was only sex
He touched a trembling foot,
I heard the voice of gladness:
"BUT!
Hello, my dear!
Long time I did not give you.
Now, from childish years
I became a great lady,
And you - the famous poet.
. . . . . . . . . . .

Well, sit down.
fever has passed,?
What you have now is not so!
I even breathed furtively,
Referring to your hand.
Yes…
not return, what happened.
All the years of running into the pond.
Once I was very fond of
Sitting at the gate together.
Together we dreamed of glory…
And you ended up in sight,
I also made about it
Forget the young officer…»

* * *

I listened to her, and involuntarily
He surveyed the slender face.
I wanted to say:
"Pretty!
Naydemte another language!»

But for some reason,, I do not know,
Sheepishly said irrelevantly:
"Yes… Yes…
I'll remember…
Sit down.
I am very happy.
I'll read a little
Poems
About the Rus kabatskuyu…
Decorated with clear and strict.
In feeling - gypsy sadness ".
"Sergei!
You are so bad.
I am sorry,
It's a shame to me,
What's your drunken fights
It is known throughout the country.
tell:
What happened to you?»
"I do not know".
"Who would know?»
"Maybe, in autumn dampness
I gave birth to my mother ".
"Joker, you…»
"You too, Anna".
"Someone like?»
"Not".
"Then, even more strange
Destroy yourself with these years:
Before you such a road…»
thicken, tumanylas distance…
I do not know, Why did I touch
Her gloves and shawl.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Luna laughed, clown.
And in my heart even though there is still no,
In a strange, I was full of
The influx of sixteen.
We parted with her at dawn
With the riddle and eye movements…

There is something beautiful in the summer,
And with summer beauty in us.

* * *

My miller…
Oh, the miller!
Since he drives me crazy.
He gave bagpipe, loafer,
And running postman.
Today again with a note,
As if someone in love:
«Give.
You closest.
With love
Ogloblin Pron ".
I go.
I come in Kriushi.
Ogloblin standing at the gate
And drunk in the liver and in the soul
Kostin obnishtalыy people.
"Hey, you!
cockroach brat!
All to Snegina!..
P-time and brew!
give us, breakwater, your land
Without compensation to us!»
And then, vary envied,
Reducing quarrelsome zeal,
He said in a genuine grievance:
"The peasants still need to cook".
"Why do you call me, last?»
"Of course, nor reap, or mowing.
Now I'll get the horse
And Snegina… together…
Requests…»
So we harnessed nag.
The shafts moslastaya shket -
Give such a bargain,
To have only themselves.
We went fine pitch,
And the way we laugh and angered:
The ascents of all the ravines
The cart drove ourselves.

arrived.
House with mezzanine
I sat down on a little facade.
Exciting smells of jasmine
Pletnev his palisade.
Slezaem.
We come to the terrace
AND, dust otryahaya shoulders,
About someone's last hour
We hear it from the upper chamber:
"Howl - not weep, - does not help…
Now it's cold corpse…
There's someone knocking on the doorstep.
powder…
I go for Unlock…»

Plump sad lady
He threw a good deadbolt.
And she blurted Pron my right
On the ground,
Without words.
"Give!.. —
He repeated hollowly. —
feet do not you kissing w!»

As if without thought and hearing
She took the words.
Then in conversational turn
He asked me
through the horror:
"And you, probably, to daughter?
Sit…
Who will report…»

Now I distinctly remember
Those days the fatal ring.
But it was not easy for me
See her face.
I understood -
happened grief,
And silently he wanted to help.
"They killed… killed Boria…
leave!
Leave off!
You - a pathetic coward and low.
He died…
Are you here…»

Not, it was too much.
Not everyone is born to move.
as ulcers, ashamed to slap,
I replied Pron:
"Today, they are not in the spirit of…
Let's go, pron, a tavern…»

4

All summer I spent in hunting.
I forgot her name and face.
my wrong
the swamp
Complained rыdalyshtik-Kulik.

Poor our homeland krotkaya
The wood and pollen soch,
And summer is short,
As the May warm night.
Dawn cold and Crimson.
Tuman pripadaet nic.
Already in the leafless Dubrovy
Spreads ringing tits.
My miller full swing smiling,
Some hilarity in it.
"Now we, Serhuha, of hare
For a sweet soul of fuel!»
I am glad and hunt…
Kohl nothing
Dispel depression and sleep.
Today to me in the evening,
a month, vkatilsâ Pron.
"My friend!
With great happiness!
Then came the expected hour!
Welcome to the new regime!
Now we are all p-times - and kvass!
We take arable land and forests.
In Russia Now Tips
Lenin - Senior Commissioner.
buddy!
That's number!
Here is the initiative because the initiative.
I almost died of joy,
A brother of my pants wet.
Edri Well in your grandmother spit!
look, golubar, merrier!
I am now the first commune
Arrange in his village ".

I had a brother Pron LaBute,
A man - that is your fifth ace:
At any moment of danger
Hvalbishka and diabolical coward.
such you, of course, issued.
Their rock chatter awarded.
He wore a white two medals
With Japanese War on chest.
And a voice hoarse and drunken
drew, going to the pub:
"Glorification of Liaoyang
Loans for the quarter…»
Then, sucked up dope,
Excitedly and passionately
About surrendered Port Arthur
Neighbor tears on his shoulder.
"darling! —
he shouted. —
Petya!
it hurts me… Do not think, that drunk.
My courage in the world
He knows only one Liaoyang ".

These are always in mind.
live, no calluses hands.
And he, of course, in the Council,
Medals hid in the trunk.
But over by the same critical posture,
As a grizzled veteran,
Wheezed under fusel jar
Pro Nerçinsk Tur:
"Yes, my boy!
We have seen the mountain,
But we are not intimidated fear…»
. . . . . . . . . . .
Medals, medals, medals
Rang in his words.
He stretched nerves Pron,
I Pron mothers Court.
But all that went first
Describe sneginsky house.

In captivity, there is always the speed:
- Give! Let us then!
Whole village was taken to the parish
From housewives and cattle.

A miller…
. . . . . . . . . . .
My old miller
Mistresses brought to his,
Forced me to, loafer,
The stranger picked fate.
And again surged something…
Then I'm all night long
I looked at skrivlenny care
Beautiful and sensual mouth.

I remember -
She said:
"Sorry… It was not right…
I am a man madly in love.
I remember… headache…
but you
accidentally insulted…
Cruelty was my judgment…
Was that sad mystery,
What passion criminal name.
Of course,
Until this fall
I knew a happy b profit…
Then I would have you cast,
How drunk bottle…
Therefore, it is not necessary…
no meetings… just do not keep…
Especially with the old views
I could hurt her mother ".

But I moved to another,
Staring into her eyes,
And her body tight
Bit swung back.
"Tell,
Are you in pain, Anna,
For your razor hutorskoj?»
But somehow sad and strange
She lowered her eyes.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"Look…
already dawn.
Dawn as a fire in the snow…
Me something reminds…
But what?..
I can not understand…
Brother!.. Yes…
It was a child…
Other… Do not fall dawn…
We all sat together…
We sixteen years…»

Then, looking around me gently
And arching swan hand,
He said as casually:
"Well, okay…
It's time to retire…»
. . . . . . . . . . .
In the evening they left.
Where?
I do not know where.
In plain, laid milestones,
Way to find easily.

I do not remember those events,
I do not know, did Pron.
I quickly rushed off to St. Petersburg
Dispel depression and sleep.

5

severe, terrible years!
But is best described?
Heard palace vaults
Soldier strong "mother".

Source, prowess!
Flowering in dalyah!
No wonder the rabble rabble
He is playing in the yards on pianos
Cows Tambov foxtrot.
bread, for oats, for potatoes
A guy Zăluceni gramophone, —
Licking goat leg,
Tango currently listening to it.
Squeezing profits from arms,
Cursing just tax,
On myslit to even the pike,
Kata between the legs.
As the years passed
Razmashisto, ardently…
Udel hleboroba gas.
Many poprelo bottled
"Kerenok" and "hodey" we.
Fefe! Kormilets! Kasatik!
The owner of land and cattle,
For a couple of izmyzgannyh "Kateka"
He allows himself to tear his whip.

Well, okay.
pretty moans!
You do not need to ridicule and words!
Today part of Pron
I sent a letter to the miller:
"Serhuha! For a sweet soul!
Hello to you, my boy! Hello!
Did you say something again Kriushi
It does not seem six years!
comfort!
pull yourself together, at the mercy!
Prizhvarivay the spring!
We have this happen here,
Why not tell the letter.
Spock has now become the people,
And the storm came to settle down.
find out, that in the twentieth year
Shot Ogloblin Pron.

Russia…
Zyk she Durov.
he likes to believe, he likes not believe his ears -
One detachment of Denikin
He descended on kriushan.
That's where the fun went…
With such a fun - okolet.
With a screech and laughing
Gulnula Cossack whip.
Then here and chiknuli Prony,
Labutya is a straw zalez
and climbed,
Only the horses
Cossacks fled to the forest.
Now he is a drunken face
Not yet tired voice:
"I would need to order red
For my courage to wear ".
Completely swept clouds…
And though we do not live in paradise,
You all are come, deary,
Comfort my fate…»

* * *

And here I am on the road again.
The June night Khmara.
Run talkative hearse
Our shatko our Valko, as of old.
The road is quite good,
Quiet flat units.
Luna Gold of dust
Showered distance villages.
flashed chapel, wells,
Okolicy and Pletneva.
And the heart of the old fights,
How to beat in the early days.

I am again at the mill…
Elnyk
Svechmi dotted with fireflies.
The old old miller
It can not put two words together:
"darling! What joy! Serhuha!
Ozyab, tea? Go, prodrug?
Yes Put you soon, old woman,
Samovar on the table and pie.
Sergunov! Gold! Listen!
. . . . . . . . . . .
And you're too old for years…
Now I am a sweet soul
A gift you give ".
"Present?»
"Not…
Just pismishko.
You're not in a hurry, pigeon!
Almost two months with odd
I address it dragged ".

open… I read… Of course!
Where do more and wait!
And such careless handwriting,
And the London Printing.

"You are alive?.. I'm very glad…
I, too, how are you, alive.
So often I dream fence,
Wicket and your words.
Now I am far away from you…
The Russian is now April.
And blue zavolokoy
Covered birch and spruce.
Now here, when paper
I entrust to the sadness of my words,
You miller, can, to thrust
Podslushivaete teterevov.
I often go to the pier
AND, whether on pleasure, eh it in fear,
I looked among the vessels of all intently
In Soviet red flag.
Now it reached power.
My dear clear…
But you I still nice,
As the birthplace and as a spring ".
. . . . . . . . . . .

Writing as an.
gratuitous.
I zhist would not write such.

There is still a sheepskin coat
I go to his barn.
I go overgrown garden,
A person touches lilac.
So my dear broken out views
Pogorbivshiysya fence.
Once at the gate of the won
I was sixteen years old.
And the girl in a white cape
He told me gently: "Not!»

They were far cute!..
The image is not extinguished in me.

We all loved the years,
But, so,
Loved us.

January 1925
Batum

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