I came to Sergei Stukalov right now,
I want to be friends, but I'm not a karateka,
I’m sitting and quietly freaking out -
what this kind portraitist wanted to tell me....
I sit and think about this, about that, about this,
then I'll walk around the room and do karate
I'll start classes maybe this summer,
but it’s better to let them remain in their dreams.
I'm not a fighter, I'm simple and submissive
I will turn my right cheek to you...
Hello, Sergey!
With love for popcorn,
and with respect, of course, to the child*.
Why do you look sad and tired,
Why are you sad, blue eyes?
To know your soul is sad
About the lands where there is silence and turquoise.
Where there will no longer be an alarming noise
Young grove in spring
Where the sky will not tremble carefully
A ray of sunshine in the evening dawn.
And only the heart will fill with pity -
It's not easy to leave forever
This willow tree that bends over the river,
This pink surface of the pond,
This is the gold of the autumn forests,
Where the falling leaves whisper so quietly,
Everything you loved, Sergei Yesenin,
And I would be glad to love you to this day.
Don't leave...
You're gone
as they say,
to another world.
Emptiness...
Fly,
crashing into the stars.
No advance for you
no pub.
Sobriety.
No, Yesenin,
This
not a joke.
In the throat
grief is lumpy -
not a laugh.
I see -
hesitating with his cut hand,
own
bones
swing the bag.
- Stop it!
Give it up!
Are you out of your mind?
Give,
so that your cheeks
flooded
deadly chalk?!
You
such
knew how to bend
that the other
in the world
I couldn't.
Why?
For what?
The bewilderment faded away.
Critics mutter...
Far from markets and roads,
where in the Highest the Sky is endless,
where in the world below God is heard,
I saw the cell of the monk.
In this world there is reward,
And praying is like breathing;
Trees of seekers, silence
and the Lord's Grace.
The labor of labor is a small feat
and before the Word of the Judge
sad and tired look -
“I breathed into Your Paths”...
Do you hear the night screams?
moans of ghostly shadows;
on the walls - Holy Faces,
sparks of splashing lights.
And in the morning, through the fogs,
on the day designated by fate,
When...
The sick soul was corroded by rust,
In the darkness I walked along the blade of a knife,
The lines rang monistically in the night...
Moralists and prophets were overthrown,
Trembling with horror and envy.
...The fate of the poet reduced the rate,
I plucked grass less and less at night
Pegasus - golden hoofs.
And the last days of the streets are intoxicated
They looked strangely like a noose.
1982
Where is he now, Seryozha -
maple sleeping by the river?
Where those horns are golden,
Where do puppies sleep?
Where is the moon, what, like a frog,
sprawled out on the wave?
Where is the gray-haired old mother
in an old-fashioned shushun?
Where is the alder that was looking at you
in the morning in pink water?..
How many sonorous songs have been sung,
putting the soul into flesh!..
Where is all this, Seryozha?!
Know what's up in heaven
you have become even more dear to us.
Raise our dead world!
The spirit of revelers in noisy restaurants
For so many years it challenges the living,
Reading “Hooligan” for the hundredth time,
I'm sick with imagism again.
The philology department keeps your portrait in bookmarks,
Everyone dreams of being praised
Golden-haired in sweet dreams,
And dream about summer with you.
Lend me a little earthly word,
I'll give it up, we'll be reckoned with in the next world,
I would like to know you alive
Also, believing in God is by convention.
Teach to love native land,
In the veins read the laws of blood,
Help, bored Yesenin,
And I ask: don't...
“For a long time there was a hypothesis that if a million monkeys were put at typewriters, then, according to the theory of inarticulateness, after a while they would not print War and Peace. “Now with the development of the Internet, we know that this is not true.”
and this is after
V. Shebzukhov moral of the fable "Graphomaniac"
Only Time, ruling over everyone, knows
(What the prose writer and the writer does not know),
Who will leave their mark in literature?
And who, as they say, will inherit!
Probably he doesn't know about it
If he imagines himself offended by fate -
Work on poetry is inferior
Work, always difficult, on yourself!
Sergey PRILUTSKY
Water tap
There was a faucet in the washbasin.
This is how he addressed us:
You are both adults and children,
All, all people on the planet,
After sleep, before meals
Say hello to me
Turn the valve
Rinse your hands
So that the microbe that clung to
It washed off from clean hands in a trickle.
And this whole procedure
It's called culture.
Just don't forget to go back
You close me. It's clear?
-Sergey Prilutsky "Water tap"
Dear author Sergei Prilutsky!
So write, dear author, for your health!!!
Just don’t touch the children! Named after. - Children's theme!
In Spiritual topics, if an adult has doubts, he (according to faith-religion) will either ask the priest or the mullah!
And an uneducated mother will read “your” ugly children’s literature to her child!
and how is it in my verse =
A child who is an empty vessel.
And the wise men do not lie at all:
It’s not difficult to find out who he will grow up to be...
It will only “pour out” what they “pour” into it!
And then you look and the child spits out your tongue-tied =
The stream runs faster! (and TCK)
If something is not clear... then I’m picking out only one case out of a thousand...
If you don’t believe me... then read out loud to your child what he hears in poetry
In the washbasin there is a LINING CRANE.
This is how he addressed us:
and asks mom again = what is it (or who is it) VILLAGE???
And a foreigner passing by, having heard, will look for the Russian word “ZHIKRAN” in the dictionary or will
look for something what is connected with Housing Council or with Zhiltrust?
And suddenly the child will also memorize and read this garbage at the Children's Poetry Competition and have no doubt that after reading this child will have a nickname.. and what.. you guessed it.. Of course, “GILCRANE”!
Write these “WELL CRANES” in adult verse, because a more or less educated Russian-speaking comrade will immediately calculate your poet level!
But feel sorry for the kids! And when you start working on this kind of ugliness, you will understand that writing poetry is real work, and not whistling them!
You have the right to confuse Culture with Hygiene, but you do not have the right to impose SUCH on children!
I understand, PROCEDURE-CULTURE rhymes much better than PROCEDURE-HYGIENE,
But what do children have to do with it???(?)
...............................................
And all this was written to you by someone who has worked all his life (and still teaches while retired) with children.
From September to May he is a teacher, and all summer he is an accordion player, a mass performer and entertainer in pioneer camps! And not among the Japanese, but with Russian-speaking children!
And to this day he is a member of the Russian Federation
.......................
P.S.
And here are some comments to you from other sites about your “Water tap” (Water tap)
Probably not in the washbasin, but
There was a faucet in the bathroom......
.... and also, not a valve (this is a children's poem)...
turn the tap...
http://litsait.ru/stihi/stihi-dlja-detei/vodoprovodnyi-kran.html
For those who stand up for the works of Sergei Prilutsky in Children's themes
.................................................
And, to make it completely clear who writes for children, I copy from (on numerous sites) my Spiritual Poetry section, commentary by Sergei Prilutsky
Prilutsky post Today, 01:43
Posted #153
Regular
Posts: 617
Quote (Vladimir Shebzukhov @ Aug 17 2013, 23:13)
LIGHT AND DARKNESS
One day Darkness appeared to the Lord
And, complaining, she said:
“Perhaps the Light has gone crazy,
Striving for the darkness to disappear!
Always oppressing the darkness
And thus, it interferes with my life!
Oh Lord tell him
And... punish him, let him know!”
When did the Lord reproach
I heard the Light addressed to me,
Then, with surprise, he said:
“I have no higher decree!
My whole life is in your hands,
Repay me for suddenly offending you!
But I could not offend the Darkness,
If... I haven’t seen her!”
..........................................
Sergey Prilutsky
So why are you making God look like a fool?
http://forum.na-svyazi.ru/?showtopic=1613549&st=150
see comments
SOMEONE, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, EXPLAIN THIS PHRASE BY SERGEY PRILUTSKY, WRITTEN ON THE RUSSIAN LANGUAGE SITE =
“...The school is leaving us behind.”
(Graduation Scarlet Sails)
THE AUTHOR OF THESE LINES, SERGEY PRILUTSKY, ALSO WRITES FOR RUSSIAN-SPEAKING CHILDREN!
...................
and here are some more reviews
It doesn’t bother you that there are few enthusiastic exclamations, it’s for yourself or for someone you’re sprinkling.
in response to yours.
Quote
Cleansing the sexual conscience
Having run through the soul with the second hand,
In one minute I was carried away along the path of passion.
Hours passed between us, voluptuousness,
Another story has ended.
In the midst of one-time relationships, I’m tired of swimming,
I’m letting off steam, but somehow everything isn’t the same.
Well, are we really rabbits, or hares,
To have so much sex, and incognito at that.
Are you able to find your own piece of happiness?
Only one for me, but for the soul,
So that together with our sexually insane passion
I was able to indulge in clearing my conscience in silence.
–
Sergey Prilutsky, Alatyr, 2013
..........................................
Prilutsky is dissatisfied again,
Prilutsky is deprived again -
Fate is the villain from...an
And he was put to shame by evil fate!
Oh, I should drink some valerian in the morning,
Take Viagra and go into battle,
But after yesterday's drinking
Our poor hero cannot.
Cuckoo fucked rake,
From related ties the charter,
With a weary soul he listens to the demons,
I have trampled my pride with my foot.
But what are demons? They are silent.
They will not be embarrassed by his suffering,
And there are no barriers to vices
And again the building of marriage will crack.
And again whores and debauchery,
And again, eat...eat rabbits,
And again, as if for the first time,
Take Viagra with vodka.
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