Holy monk, fall of man, skirt
I want to sing, as an unclean spirit Hell
Was saddled bradatym old;
As he mastered the black hood,
As he pushed Monk sinners in the herd.
The singer of love, Ferney old man,
To you, Voltaire, I now appeal.
Where to, tell me, become of your bow,
Whom I admire Jean d'Arc,
Where is your paintbrush, tell me, She took vveki
They neither will people?
Voltaire! Sultan French Parnassus,
I do not want sedlat horse Pegasus,
I do not want to make some music from the ladies,
But just give me your Zlata lyre,
I'll be with her the whole known world.
You frown and say,: I do not give.
Are you a poet, cursed by Apollo,
Ispachkavshiy prostenki Kabakov,
By Helicon fallen into the mud with Vilonom
Can not you help me, Barkov?
With a smile you give me skrypitsu,
Sulish wine and muse half-girl:
"Follow my example, only". —
No, not, Barkov! skrypitsy not take,
I will sing, that comes into my head,
Let somehow verse by verse pour.
Not far from the beautiful places,
Where stout rose Ivan the Great,
On his head wearing a golden cross,
In the wilderness of forests, Desert grim, wilderness,
a monastery; in its deaf walls
Under the old age a gray monk
Holy zhitem, prayers escaped
And by the end of days quietly approaching.
Our worker was not too rich,
Behind the pomp he could not go to hell.
had the cat, had psaltery and rosary,
bubble, surplice yes damask green vodka.
Ascended to the house, where the monk lived peacefully,
Not only you saw the gold mountain,
Not marble there to beguile your eyes
There's not hung on the walls of Raphael.
God saw you on a chair with three legs,
Yes, in a corner bench in a yard floor,
On the way asleep and breakfast monk.
There is a down jacket on the bench is not bad bubbled.
although monk, he did not roll fluff
Between two sheets on soft mattresses.
All year round Father fasted,
The whole blessed day he accompanied his cell,
"Have mercy on me" in an undertone read,
El tightly, I slept and prayed every hour.
And you, Monk, rebellious Jesuits!
Red Now, Since you know how to blush,
Kohl modicum of conscience even though you have;
Red and you, rich Carmelit,
And you will be ashamed, Pechersk Lavra resident,
Hearts and souls humble lord ...
But, pound! wait! - Away Unknown
Opposite me already duckweed zeal;
Priests not to enrage our craft.
Pankraty lived happy in seclusion,
I am hoping to see heaven soon,
But no land unknown Territory
Protect us from the devil can not. —
And in those places, where the black Satan
Custody anger claws Eating,
suddenly we learned, that unfenced
Free road to the monastery.
And suddenly all the devils crowd rose,
Through the air on the wings of the rushed -
Another in Paris to the bald Carthusians
With penny, with gold coins reached,
The Vatican to the paunchy italiantsam
Burgundy and pasta bore;
The maids fell to the Prelate,
That set off a stiff upper lip to the nuns.
And I heard, that if the old pop,
One foot already entered into a coffin,
Two young crowned before the lectern.
The devil ran cupid with a swarm,
Suddenly, the deacon at Krylos vskhrapel,
Pop stopped - looked at the girl,
A girl looked at Deacon.
We strongly groom blood boil,
A demon of them all to yourself is led into hell.
Too dark the night was rising into the heavens,
Already in the cities ceased noise all the day,
Moon in the window illuminated Monk. —
The prayer book all rushed mind,
Pankraty our before the icon of St. Nicholas
With a sigh, I put the earth bows. —
came Molok (the so called Devil),
Pancrazio under a black cassock hid.
Holy Monk praying too, I prayed,
sigh, sighing, and the devil was right there.
beats per hour, Milk does not want to be disengaged,
beats two, three hits - all sitting unclean.
"Oh, my will", - he grumbles to himself.
And the old man really has ceased to be baptized,
I sat down on the bench, rubbed his eyes, yawn,
With prayer stretches three times,
he yawned again, ... and very nearly fell asleep.
However, there w! Pankraty suddenly woke up,
Again, the devil tempt Monk,
to lull, Bobrova started reading.
monk missed, Monk because dyvylsya.
Vek not eval, as a god he prayed.
But - no really forces, crosses, Psalter, the words, —
all forgotten; Seda chairman,
like an apple, chest rolled,
With forehead hand dropped to his knees,
Prayer book fell out of the hands under the table,
Holy vzdremal, vskhrapel, like an old ox.
Unhappy! sleep ... Pankraty suddenly woke up
I looked back and forth with fear,
Crosshair with a bed he gets up,
Looking around - a candlestick nagorela;
Slightly weak light around him Liet;
Something in the corner was white like.
Monk goes - well? skirt he sees.
“What I see!.. Or is it just a dream? —
cried Monk, ostolbenev, wan. —
how! what's this?…” and, not daring to continue,
As vkopany, before the white skirt became,
silent, krasnel, embarrassed, thrilled.
Fire of love only barrier,
Lover sladchayshaya prize
And the charms of his only covering,
About skirt! it to you, I draw,
These strings to you I dedicate,
Impressed my pen, love!
Love you, skirt of expensive,
When the evening waiting for me,
Natalia, removing brocade sundress,
Thee only surrounded by a thin mill.
What could be nicer if you?
And you, viyas around beautiful feet,
Jet streams transparent, lighter,
As for the places, where the young god
Rests between Rose and Lila.
Ile, Philo, Chloe ran for,
Hold her in his arms tends,
Green bush suddenly you resist ...
She must, ashamed of, stay.
But later all, chasuble, to catch up,
With her on the grass, fragrant falls
And fiery, trembling hand
Happy loving shepherd
You over the edge gently lifts.
She eyes him languid osklablyaet,
And he is ... but there is no; I do not dare to continue.
I tremble, heart pounding,
AND, may be, readers, who knows?
And your blood with the aspirations of passion pours.
But our monk talked about the skirt
Not so, like me (I am young, not trimmed
And happiness not in the least offended).
He was not pleased, saw that the skirt,
And in the same hour, and I have realized realized,
That he is unclean claws caught.
Song of the second
bitter reflections, sleep, saving idea
Meanwhile the night had not yet retired,
Meanwhile light lila even the moon,
That skirt everything was still visible.
As soon as the train firmament dawn lightened,
From the eyes of a sudden she shut up the.
And our monk, Alas, deprived of rest.
Oh, he does not sleep, He stroked the cat does not,
He does not remember a church lectern,
On all sides Pankraty trouble.
“how, - he thinks, - when and little dog
In the monastery, and my spirit is not,
When there vvek never seen yubchonki,
Who could have her to bring me into the house?
Oh, methinks ... sorry, lord, in!
Oh, is not there ... ... said the Scarecrow girl”.
The monk blushed and, what to do, did not know.
In all corners of the, under lavkami like.
all in vain, not, old man with nothing left,
But all day, as a pale shadow, taskalsâ,
Did not eat, I do not drink, calmly and did not sleep.
day passes, and evening closing in
Lit all the lamps and candles.
already Monk, with the head of Hood shooting,
I went to bed. - But as soon as the rays
The moon from the sky in his box blank
And the skirt suddenly lit up on the bench,
The monk closed his eyes alarmed
AND, so as not to fall into hell-like into temptation,
I was about a century to lose eyesight,
As soon as the skirt would not look.
The old man groaning on its side turned
And in a sheet wrapped cushy,
closed eyes, I fell asleep and began to snore.
One hour Molok suddenly turned into a fly
And it flies buzzing around him.
flown, fly, by circling the room
And my nose sat a monk.
Pankratov again he let seduce.
Monk snoring and wonderful dreaming.
seemed to him, that the broad valley,
between colors, He stands under the myrtle,
Around him Satyrs, fauns host.
Sometimes laughing is pouring into the cup Penna guilt;
Green ivy on her black hair,
And the vineyard of goals visyashtiy,
And easy Viersen, lying at his feet, —
everything indicates, that ever-youthful Bacchus,
fun god, satire patron.
Other, inflated pastushechyu svyrel,
sings love, and the master of the hearts
Odushevlyal ego cheerful trill.
Under the linden trees there are dancing round dance
Crowds of children and young people, and maidens.
And then, branches under the dark vault,
The dense shadow spreading trees,
On a bed of roses, inflamed by love,
Barely breathing, fun exhaustion,
Amid the joy and the sweet coolness,
Obnyavshisya lovers lie.
The monk looked at all the confusion eye
Then at the glass, he drew the eyes,
The girls looked at Monk with a sigh,
Bald forehead with annoyance scratched -
standing, as the stump, and his mouth agape in fathoms.
And suddenly, in the shower felt courage
And the bekrenʹ vzʺârâsʹ hat Nadvina:.
In the green forest, some white-usyj Paz,
How easy horse, for devkoyu pognalsya.
Hurry eagle, faster than sound lire
charmer flew, like marshmallows.
But our monk Aeolus before her seemed,
No rest for the new Daphne pursued.
"I do not give, - grumbling, - I miss in the ring ".
But the devil suddenly, melknuv due kustochka,
Pankratov grabbed yubchonkoyu face.
And suddenly disappeared pleasant view grove.
creek, hills and nymphs can not see it,
Oh no Varka, vsporhnul and Cupid,
And there is no trace popsy lovely.
One monk in the desert deaf, obscure,
frowning eyes; dark sky,
Suddenly the sound of thunder, monk strikes -
Pankratiy: “Ah!..», and suddenly he awoke.
Embarrassed glance he drew everywhere:
in the heavens, like sapphires, sorrow,
Already the east rosy dawn.
And no skirt. - Pankratiy BCTA, washed
AND, pomolyasy, he began to weep greatly,
He sat under a window and bitterly mourned.
“Brother! - he thought, - Mail you angered?
to blame, lord, before you?
As a sinner, twirls me unclean.
I do not want to sleep, I want you to pray,
I will take a psaltery, and then suddenly and skirt.
I want to sleep at night and vzdremat forget,
Well I dream? troubled my spirit.
Hear my fervent supplication,
Do not let me fall, Lord, in iskushenьe!”
God heard the prayers of the old man,
And his mind is enlightened in a minute.
From a poor gray-haired Prostyakov
Pankraty suddenly materialize in Newton.
I think, watched, compared the, smeknul
And in his joy overturned chair.
AND, sage, Syracuse who escaped,
He fled down the street barefoot and naked,
The opening of his he admired
And everyone was shouting loudly: "found! found!»
“Well! - he thought, - from demons and yubchonki
I will deliver - and cute girls
Already in a dream I did not tempt.
I'm alive again monk monk,
I will wait for the last hour of fear
And with faith, and everything will go smoothly”.
So he thought - and very wrong.
Being able to Rock, Mr. universe,
Pankratyem, like a doll, zabavlyalsya.
Monk water filled his pitcher,
Muttered words of prayer over him
And he was ready to battle menacing hell.
Waiting skirt he - with his hand
Unclean spirit all day was at work
And all in the heat, in dirt, in dust and sweat
Warn hurry moonrise.
Song of the third
Brother, makes me beautiful nature
Correggio art has not given?
Then used in the number of people Parnasskii
Dashing passion I have not brought it.
Ink, I would not Maral fingers,
I do not litter paper attic,
And Desk, as a maid for the hoop,
Write poetry, I would not have sat in any way.
I took the brush used intrepid hand
AND, drinking a glass of champagne in a moment,
Used to work I began with a hot head,
As Tsitsian il flaming Alban.
I would imagine all the charm of Natalia,
At full breasts have pulled a strand of hair,
Round the head a wreath of fragrant roses,
Around the lovely legs clothes frolic tali,
Stan grabbed Kipridy b belt Zlat.
And brush was used a hundred times happier than I!
Or paint b il took Vernet Poussin;
Wave river flowed to canvas;
On the horizon palyashtih, southern countries
Vozvedshego night brooding moon,
It is presented on a rock sulfur,
Round which has a noisy ocean,
high, walls covered with moss;
And there in the waves, where breathes the breeze,
on silver, vkrug rocks shiny foam,
Marshmallows shaken shuttle.
Drew would have it, I Cantemir,
Her beauty ... and I would be happy to throw lira,
From pure music forever Delete.
But Rubens born I was not born,
Do not draw, I set off to weave rhymes.
M<артынов> let us captivates brush,
And I - I again vzmostilsya on Parnassus.
Filled with courage iroyskoyu,
Again taking the ink tank with paper
And again, I will go on lyrics.
What makes now the gray Pankraty?
What makes even his enemies to shaggy?
Already ceased to Phoebus ground cover;
On all sides raid much shade;
Fog hid the form groves and forests;
Oh, here and there stars shine ...
Oh, and the moon flashed through the forest ...
us alive, dead than sitting under the icons
monk, praying with both hands.
Suddenly, white, as the newly attacked snow
Moscow river on rocky Breg,
How easy shadow, in his eyes was the skirt ...
monk gets, Blushing like a flame,
As modinki lovely ala sponge.
I grabbed a pitcher, full wrath is kindled,
And all the water he pours skirt.
About miracle!.. This ghost suddenly disappears -
And here in front of him with horns and a tail,
As the gray wolf, all covered with bristles,
As a good horse with a hoof savvy
He appeared Molok, trembling under the table,
From head to toe, all bathed in water,
Closing yourself hem epanche,
roll one's eyes, as the lights in the night.
“Hurrah! - I cried the monk, with an evil grin,
I caught you. underground magician.
Now you are my, no way out, the villain.
All pranks pay head.
Go to the bottle, corked you,
Now it is in the pits, I will cast.
To her, Exact Science! tremble before me”.
– “you won, the venerable old man, —
So I answer smirnehonko Molok. —
you won, but be generous,
The putrid water not overflow me.
I'll vvek for you to obey,
calmly eat, sleep peacefully at night,
I do not entice you will”.
– “It's like that, it's like that, so get in the bottle,
Much from you, my friend, I will not leave,
After all your trickery, I have not forgotten”.
– “Forgive me, I'll be happy,
All wealth will pour to you like a river.
How Bank, I know you comin,
I get home, I buy you a coach,
They come to you in front of the poets;
All bow will make the rich man,
Record hat, Prices per mode.
All traded for a long coat with pants,
Poskachesh you proud stallions,
People, смеясь, press wheels
And aglinskoy coach of surprise.
You go you have to sweat Shilovsky,
Over dinner nap at Gorchakov,
By Naryshkina podpravlivat vest.
Then all know (with ministers, with the princes
After all, you will live, both blood friends)
You call the lush their lunch”.
– “Do not tempt! I will not leave you,
Without further words of this hour in the bottle go”.
– “Wait, wait, sweetheart, weather!
I am your wife, and red maidens deliver”.
– “damn demon! as? and in my hands
I dare you to think about the wives!
see how! but no, hell employee,
You should beguile Pankratov bustle.
For all, about the all too ready to reward,
Rascal, devil evil servant!”
– “Give a minute with you shall declare,
leave me, do not be my enemy.
This act perhaps Awards,
And I'll SVEZA Jerusalem”.
With these words, Monk himself did not remember.
"In Jerusalem!"- Divas on anger Molveno.
- "In Jerusalem! - Yes, Yes, SVEZA you ".
- "Well,, estli so, I'll spare you ".
Old man, old man, do not listen to you Milk,
leave him, leave Jerusalem.
Just looking to hook a demon saint with sides,
Do not mess you close friendship with him.
But you're not listening to me, Pankratiy,
You take a seat, take saddlecloth, bridle.
Already under you cheerfully cursed devil,
Cooked on a hell of a ride.
Alloy, old man, sitting on the shoulder of Milk,
Pull him in the ass and a side,
Alloy, hurry to the holy city of the east,
But remember that, not to nag
You have put their venerable feet.
Hold on, always hold a straight road,
Indeed, in a grim way to Hell is wide.