Shrill poems Valentine Gaft



wonderful actor Valentin Gaft, known to us more as beautifully played comic roles, writes poems that touch deeply. Website chose several poems from his book "... I gradually perceive ...ยป.



Dog Why are so devoted dog,
And his love beskraen?
But in the eyes - always a question,
He loves his master there.

Because someone - s,
Because in the past - cage!
Because people
I betrayed him often.

I wander through the streets,
People gaze at the faces,
Now I watch everything,
That, like a dog, not to be mistaken.









"You and I, just the two of us?" You and I, just the two of us?
Oh, what a deception.
With us, the wall sconces, wallpaper,
Night, champagne, couch.

With us, the silence in the apartment
And the windows drops,
With us, everything in this world
Lower down on the bed.

We - the only point of the universe,
Someone thin thread,
Our flourishing and extinction
It's called - the destiny.

We face each other breathe,
Beat the clock in the midnight hour,
And over us someone over
All have been decided for us.





Hooligan Mother, calm down, he did not bully.
It does not stick to you at the station.
During the war (remember Malakhov mound?)
With such grenades were under the tanks.

Such built roads and bridges,
Canals dug, mines and trenches.
Always in the mud, but their souls are pure.
Forever core tightened around his neck.

What a way - just behind the pistol ?!
What a habit - once on his knees ?!
Died Mayakovsky bully,
Died Yesenin hooligan.

Lest we humiliated for pennies,
So that we do not live, mother, idiotically,
Died bully Shukshin,
Died bully Vysotsky.

We are alive, and they're gone There,
Taking care of all our pains and wounds.
Lights in the sky a new star -
She lit, of course, bullies.









Bag Man - no imbecile,
To adapt to the world,
For example, came up with a bag,
Imitating a kangaroo.
Man - not imbecile,
He is a genius, and a villain,
Like children, the money in the bags
Sleep marsupials people.





*** Living less in the phone book,
Ringing in the ears deadly scythe,
Knock increasingly coffin lid,
Strangers meet voices.

But these figures, I will not erase
And frame never circled.
All I find, I'll call them all,
Wherever they may be, in heaven or in hell.

While bulling and carefree living -
Ended, day-night coils.
Now that nedogovorit,
It sounds like a dot, whistles.





Bridges I build mental bridges,
Their measurements are simple,
I build them from the void,
To go where you.

Land bridge blocking,
You and I have not found,
He opened his eyes, and there ... open,
My journey is over, I am - come.





Sheepskin That's going to die, but someone foolishly
As you will appreciate just skin.



See also Modern poetry, which give wings
"Thaw": the actors read touching poems era
Brevity and talent Vladimir Vishnevsky

via www.adme.ru/tvorchestvo-pisateli/kratkost-i-talant-vladimira-vishnevskogo-750410/

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