The House in Kolomna


Chetyrestopny pentameter bore me:
They wrote all. Boy in fun
It's time to leave his b. I wanted
A long time ago to take up an octave.
And in fact,: I would sovladel
With triple consonance. Puschus to glory.
After easily rhyme with me live;
Two come themselves, the third lead.


And to them the way wide open, free,
Verbs once I'll let them ...
You know, that rhyme naglagolnoy
I abhor us. Why? I ask.
So he credited with Shikhmatov pious;
For the most part and I write.
For what? tell; too, and so we scored.
From now on, I will take the words of the rhyme.


I will not reject them haughtily,
As recruits, have achieved injury,
Or how horses, for them to become bad, —
And pick up a league adv;
From shallow bastards enlist army.
I need a rhyme; all ready to save me,
Although the whole dictionary; that syllable, then the soldiers -
All are suitable in order: we do not parade.


Well, female and masculine syllables!
bless, try: hear!
Rovnyaytesya, pull the leg
And three in a row in the call in an octave!
Do not be afraid, we will not be too strict;
Hold on to voluntary and only those who help themselves,
And there already get used, thank God,
And will drive on a flat road.


How fun verses their lead
under Digits, in order, system of systems,
Do not let them wander in the direction of,
as an army, in fluff spilling battle!
Then every syllable noticed and honored,
Here every verse currently looking hero,
A poet ... with whom he is?
He Tamerlan Ile Napoleon.


A little rest at this point.
what? stop, or put on a ne?…
confess to you, I iambic line
Love caesura in the second foot.
Otherwise, the verse in the pit, is at stake,
And though now lying on the couch,
Everything seems to me, if in a jolting run
On frozen arable land rush I'm on the wagon.


What kind of trouble? Well not all walk on foot
Along Nevsky granite il at the ball
Calender flooring or to ride
In the Kirghiz steppe. Popletusʹ-ka dale,
From station to station small step,
As they say on the original,
Which the, do not feed, to trotter
I came from Moscow to Neve peke.


I tell, rısak! Parnassian pacer
It would not be overtaken. but Pegasus
old, tooth is no more. They dug well
withered. Overgrown nettles Parnassus;
Retired Phoebus lives, and horovodets
muses old ladies really does not appeal to us.
And the camp with his classic vershinok
We moved to the little market.


usyadus, muza: handles sleeve,
Under the bench legs! not Vertis, rezvushka!
Now start. - Once there was a widow,
Besides eight years, poor old woman
With one docheryu. At the Intercession
It was their humble hovel
For the most Butko. I am seeing as it is now
little room, three windows, the porch and the door.


Three days ago, I went there together
With one friend the evening before.
Hovel that is not really there. on the spot
It built three-storey house.
I thought of the old woman, the bride,
Sometimes, here sitting under the window,
Oh he porous, when I was younger,
I thought: whether they are alive? - And what?


I felt sad: on the high house
I looked askance. If at this time
Fire it would cover around,
That I Used embittered gaze
Nice were flame. strange dream
Sometimes the heart is full; many vzdoru
Comes to mind, when delirium
Alone or together with a friend.


Then blessed, who rules the strong words
And he keeps his mind on a leash,
Who lulls in the heart or crushes
Instantly proshipevshuyu serpent;
But who is talkative, that rumor glorify
Suddenly a monster ... I drink the water of Lethe,
I doctor banned Sadness:
leave it, - Do me a favor!


old woman (I have seen a hundred times a hair's breadth
In the paintings of Rembrandt such persons)
He is wearing a cap and goggles. but the daughter
It was, by my faith, beautiful girl:
Eyes and eyebrows - dark as night,
Sam white, gentle, as a dove;
It was formed by the taste. She
I read essay Emin,


He plays the guitar and was able to
And sing: Moans dove dove,
And Molding l I, and that, let alone age,
Everything, that the stove in winter evening,
Or dull autumn with samovar,
Or spring, avoiding the woods,
Russian girl sings sadly,
As our muses sad singer.


Figured il literally: the whole family,
From the coachman to the first poet,
We all sing sadly. sad howl
Russian Song. known omen!
Starting for the health, for the departed
Restricting how different. sadness warmed
Harmony and our muses and maidens.
But like their plaintive melody.


Parachuting (It was the name of our beauty)
He knew how to wash and iron, sew and weave;
Full rules one Paracha.
She was instructed to news accounts,
When it is boiled buckwheat
(This important work she helps carry
Stryapuha Fekla, good old,
It has long been devoid of flair and hearing).


old mother, happened, under window
sat; the day she was knitting a stocking,
And in the evening at a small table
Laying out the card and wondered.
Daughter, meanwhile, swept the entire house,
The window, something flashed in the yard,
Whoever drove il nor walked,
All the time to see (Zorka floor!).


In winter the shutters closed early,
But in the summer to the night-dissolved
Everything was in the house. pale Diana
I looked out the window a long time girl.
(Without this, none of the novel
will not do; so opened!)
Sometimes, mother long ago I snored,
A daughter - at the moon also viewed.


And listening to the cats meow
in attics, Dates mark indiscreet,
Yes guards further yells, Yes chimes -
But only. Night over peacefully Kolomna
wonderfully quiet. Rarely out of homes
I catch a glimpse of two shadows. Heart of languorous
She heard it was possible, how is it
The resilient thrusting blade.


On Sundays, summer and winter,
The widow went with her for Protection
And standing in front of a crowd
We left Krylos. I live
Now, is not there, but surely the dream
I love to fly, asleep awake,
Kolomna, to Cope - and on Sunday
There listening to the Service of Russian.


There, I remember, I went always
Countess .... (named as the, I do not remember, right)
She was rich, young;
Entrance to the church with the noise, majestically;
I prayed proudly (where he was proud!).
Sometimes, wrong; everything look right,
All her. Stool in front of her
It appeared, the poor, even poorer.


Sometimes the countess at her casually
Giving up your important eyes. But she
I prayed to God quietly and assiduously
And they did not seem entertained.
Humility in her tenderly portrayed;
Countess also were shipped
In itself, in the magic of the new fashion,
In its glory arrogant and harsh.


It seemed ideal hladny
vanity. His only you know it;
But this I read through arrogance
a different story: many sorrows,
Humility complaints .... In them, I delved,
Involuntary eye they somehow attracted ....
But know this Countess could not
AND, right, in the list of victims has made me.


she suffered, though was beautiful
and young, though her life flowed
The luxurious bliss; though was subservient
Fortuna her; though she was carrying fashion
your incense, - she was unhappy.
It was a hundred times more blessed,
Reader, your new znakomka,
simple, my good Paracha.


Spit on the top of the stratum zmyey,
Due to the ears zmieyu curls Russes,
Kerchief criss-cross the Ile node,
On the thin neck of wax beads -
simple outfit; but before her window
Yet I went to the guards Chernous,
And she knew how to seduce them
Without the aid of expensive dresses.


Between them who it was closer to the heart,
Or equal for all she was
Dushoyu cold? see below,
Meanwhile she led a peaceful life,
Without thinking of the balls, about Paris,
Neither of the yard (though the court lived
Her sister, cousin,, Vera
Ivanovna, wife of Gough furera).


But woe unto them suddenly visited the house:
Stryapuha, returning from the hot bath,
She shrugged. In vain tea and wine,
And vinegar, and mint poultice
She was treated. On the night before Christmas
she died. With poor cook
they just. On the same day came
Her coffin and taken to the Okhta.


On her house spared, all the Bole
cat Vaska. After my widow
thought, that two, three days - do not share -
You can live without cooks; that can not
Bring your meal to God's will.
The old woman's daughter is calling: Parachuting!" - "I!»
- "Where do I get the cook? Svedala her neighbor,
Do not know. Cheap so rare ". —


- "I'll find out, mamenka ". And he came out,
wrapped. (The winter was threatening,
And the snow skrypel, and blue sky,
cloudless, in the stars, syyal freezing.)
Widow waited long Parasha; sleep
It tended to quietly; it was late,
When Paracha quietly went to her,
said: - "Here I am the cook brought".


After her, timidly speaking,
Short skirt dress up,
high, a nedurnaya,
There was a girl and, kowtow,
He pressed to the corner, apron examining.
- "What's take?"- I asked, turning,
Old woman. - "Everything, that will do for you ",
Said that humbly and freely.


Widow like her answer.
- "And what is the name?"-" A Mavra ". - "Well,, Mavrusha,
He lives in us; you are young, my light:
chase men. The deceased Feklusha
I served as a cook for ten years,
Never honor the debt without affecting.
Not follow me, for my daughter,
zealously be; prischityvat do not you dare ". —


day passes, other. The cook confused
quite a few: then digest,
That overcook, the regiment with the dishes
damage; always overdo everything. —
Sew sit - can not take the needle,
Scold her - she herself is silent;
Everywhere, around really like something podgadil.
Paracha beats, and does not cope.


in the morning, on Sunday, mother and daughter
Come to Mass. Just stayed at home
Mavrusha; see eh: at her all night
toothache; almost dragged alive;
Cinnamon had to pound, —
Cake bake it sbiralsya.
her left; Yet in the church suddenly
The old widow found fright.


she thought: "The clever Mavrushe
Why pressed her passion for the cake?
Pirozhnitsa, by my faith, looks cheat!
L do not try it we steal
Yes uliznutʹ? Here we will be with new clothes
for holiday! Ahti, what passion!»
so thinking, old lady faint
finally, will not suffer, He said:


- "Stay here, Parachuting. I'm going home,
Me something terrible ". The daughter did not understand,
What scared her. From the porch off
A little old lady is not my flew;
Her heart was beating, both before a disaster.
I came to hovel, the kitchen looked, —
Mavrushi no. Widow to his rest
I came - and well? Oh my God! some fear!


Before zerkalʹcem Paras, dutifully sidya,
cook shaved. What about my widow?
'Brother, brother!"And plopped. see her,
And, vtoropяh, with soapy cheek
through old woman (widow honor resentment),
He jumped into the passage, right on the porch,
Yeah, well run, covering his face.


Mass ended; came Paracha.
- "What, mamenka?- 'Brothers', my Pasha!
Mavrushka ... "-" What, what with her?"-" our cook:
Recover hitherto can not I ...
For the mirror ... all in a lather ... "-" Will your,
I can not understand anything right;
To where f MAVrus?- 'Brothers', she is a robber!
She is shaved!... exactly my dead!» —


Paracha blushed or not,
I can not tell you; but Mavrushki
Since there was no, - Simple and trace!
gone, not taking pay any penny
And not having to make some major troubles.
In the red girls and old women
Who atonement Mavrushu? I confess,
I know not, and come in a hurry.


- "How, It is all here? shutite!"-" Honestly ".
- "So that's where we were octave!
Why Well this raised the alarm,
We call together with the army and were boasting?
Well, you have chosen an enviable road!
Can it be true of other items not found?
Yes No Do you ever moralizing?»
- "No ... or is there: a moment of patience ...


Here's a morality: According to my,
Cook gift hiring dangerous;
Who was born a male, so
Dress up in a skirt and weird vain:
Someday he will have the same
Shave the beard itself, that unconformably
With the nature of the ladies ... More than anything
Do not squeeze out of my story '.
1830 g.

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