No Bathroom Fan Solutions

Spring 2008 (served Gavrila rhymer)

      Весеннее
                
                    
Комар blue-eyed flies
me he had long been familiar,
he seemed to Sail
under this low ceiling.

Rally to me, mosquito, singing
under the roof of my house!
You like me, eagerly drinking,
whenever it would be something,

you, like me, the singer dull,
let the detachment tenors.
Fly quickly to the homeland sweet!
There paradise for us, for the mosquitoes!

We are here to suffer in a black body,
liberties we both want.
Fly, what are you, really!
Come, comrade, fly away!

with a cheerful bunch of mosquito
through the woods through the fields
expensive moon, night long
we'll fill in their region -

and meet our relatives gave,
and meet us Privetnoye chat!
Neither DEET nor dezinsektali
our quiet paradise will not be overshadowed!

We will drink the nectar daily
in the sky slowly soar
and girlfriends of bloodsucking
wonderful romances do -

and someone dreaming and worrying,
melody is awakened from sleep,
exclaim: - Mosquitoes are back!
Spring has come! Spring has come!

            
        Exegi monumentum                       
             
I looked at gave passed,
time sliding down the slope:
we all loved and suffered,
my fellow friends!

Oh, sorry Moderate:
whatever one may say, and no vertical -
unlucky in love - so in death
should probably get lucky!

But looking sober eyes,
me, obviously, is not given
not lie in the Column Hall
performing in mourning movies,
not ride on a gun-carriage
to thunderous music regiment.

There will be no interview in the newspaper
on my merry widow,
will not be asking for local lore
homes my friends, nor my friends
worn sneakers,
or an inflatable mattress in the museum.

Neither the tractor in the fields of dusty,
no ordinary yawl rowing,
or asteroid long unsold
will not call me.

Sunday I hardly shines -
well, perhaps, to the Judgement,
and even links on the Internet
will not, to my shame!

Enough me and the rewards for
shebutnoe being,
that suddenly someone will be happy
though verbiage is mine! ;                    
            
          
                                   
Подруге-стихотворице
(на появление "vkontakte.ru" ладожских фотоснимков 1980 года)

Say Ludmila Moskalev,
well what kind of business,
that the glory of thy name
you with saluting?

without feeling that loss,
you - like a boat on a wave,
where the nose is shining "Tere"
and shkevich "- somewhere on the stern.

Ah, our young years!
Oh, girls, windy people!
you renounced freedom,
letting the goats in the garden.

Listen to me without anger
for watching me:
replace not just youthful maiden
appearance and name.

In the confusion lies:
changed to mask the essence - no.
Why a cage with wild lvvitsey
plaque to hang "Pussy-cat"?

and with the same name worthy
you, Luda, Lord forgive me,
times of stagnation and binge
could enter into the record.

And it Lyudmila Moskaleva "
(yes, sometimes I'm in comparisons cool!) -
it sounds awfully cool,
well as, for example, "Junius Brutus "!...

When" vkontakte "contactless
I'm with you once again get in contact
Ledet me in the head tactless,
that time - this is an artifact.

(Incidentally, I do not know really,
that, I want to say,
but former Komsomol
happy dust Pushcha in the eye!)

covered alien speech,
alien culture surrounded,
keep in the closet sword and shield I
and do not like the German wives.

Away from the northern capital
live in reality another,
but your names and faces,
they shine on me.

Radiance old photos
still dofotochnoy pores
excites my mind was a giraffe,
leads in the past worlds.

We all learned a little
anything and somehow,
especially - pint of grog
take a friend on his chest!

Because between us Moscovites
of ggrada Glorious Peter -
what not to do drunk,
order to look back on in the morning!

It takes our time,
but not yet quite gone,
still roam our shadows
among the shadows demolished walls ...

What else shall I say, Lyuda?
You can not keep his uncle evil.
sorry bastard without malice,
forgive toothless goat!

in the thrall of vile instincts
and sublime Nonsense,
hunt and I am lecturing,
really you, Lyudmila, sorry!

not make for yourself an idol
and do not lose their friends.
Lights east, rattles Lira,
seek pawns in a world of queens,
time rushing team,
drowning in champagne pineapple,
Skvortsov-Stepanov or buckle
still waiting, Lyudmila us.

And who else, Lyudmila asks,
in your name to it?
Poet resigns, the wind is,
fraud by Prophet squints,
Mumu dives into the pond,
and we sigh and live.

Ah, time does not catch us online!
How good thing to hide,
that there is in this world for whom
sad and troubled,
is the voice of a friendly guitar
and Email somebody Hi
and photos our old
flowing skylight -
light on our little,
vain who took the plow,
rebellious, orphaned, distressed
and - anyway - happy душ!