Variations on a theme

T. called. "Sadistic" poem:

Showa cherries on the tree for useful,
 Caretaker Matthew takes bleed.
 Shot! There was a piercing scream ...
 Forty second!? - The old man grinned.

 * * *
 O. Khayyam

Gorby no shoulders, Matthew, and do not need to cry.
 The death of Seva you can easily justify - so many cherries shot saved, thank God!
 Hence, the fall will again liqueur.

* * *
 William Shakespeare

Love and death are as close as two hands,
 But I think that if the unfortunate Showa,
 When, contrary to common morality,
 Secretly reached for cherries on the tree?

Yes, he loved! He loved their delicate flavor,
 Their flavor, their sweet juice and pulp.
 But I could not bear the load of love,
 And lost it ... Oh I do not cry.

From the stormy passions find peace,
 Now he lies in the bush sage,
 Struck by the fair hand
 Severe St. Matthew.

Different love comes to us,
 But the fee for it is known - blood.

* * *
 M. Basho

Matthew Marks-san.
 The blood of the young samurai
 Like a cherry juice ...

* * *
 Showa prankster, a small seven years,
 Considered, as they say, to his sorrow,
 What sweet cherries on someone else's courtyard.
 This happens with children.
 Though mama ten times a day
 He asserted: "God will punish severely thieves»,
 But Seva all the words about God
 I perceived as chatter.
 Deciding to dine with cherry relish,
 To neighbor - Shasta!
 In the garden, he said, with the agility of a bear,
 I managed to climb a tree,
 But at the same time he made a noise,
 What alarmed the neighbors.
 And already, because of the branches,
 At Seva looks grandfather Matthew.
 He took off from the face of cobweb,
 One movement quickly, deftly
 From under the counter pulled a rifle
 And he took aim at the bastard.
 Doublet! Sprinkle with foliage,
 And the old man chuckled: "Forty-two».

Moral: do not want a bullet in his stomach - not to open his fruit forbidden by mouth.

* * *

July sun warmed
 Redolent of the old garden.
 I was a child the smell of summer road
 And the scent of ripe cherries.
 Reader, you're probably too,
 When I was a little younger,
 He loved to climb into the neighbor's garden,
 To eat fruit from the tree.
 Here are just a young Showa,
 Seeing the lush gardens,
 And the lure of the fruits,
 I decided to try the cherries from the tree.
 And early in the morning, like a thief,
 Surreptitiously climbed over the fence.

I did not know varmint that early in the morning
 The collective farm watchman Matvei,
 Leaving the warm couch,
 In the garden, took refuge among the branches
 And armed with a Berdan rifle,
 With that in the formidable "citizen»
 Already he commanded a regiment,
 Slyv "Voroshilov marksman».
 He's an uninvited guest
 The optical sight looks - Cotton! - Seva and flies down,
 Breaking branches, twigs, bones.
 Killed thief. Caretaker glad,
 Hack puts on the butt.

* * *
 Mikhail Lermontov

Tell me, Uncle, how it happened,
 All cherry orchards disappeared
 On the whole mile?
 And only we have around the gazebo
 From ripe cherries bend branches,
 And look with envy neighbor
 In this beauty.

Oh, you're curious, Vanya!
 But if you want to know, listen - here in the village, we
 Shalila bum this summer.
 Descend at night, and by dawn
 In the garden, there is no trace of the berries.
 And so from time to time.

First residents grumbled
 And wrote a letter of complaint,
 Asking punks appease.
 But from the heads of little use,
 And then I secretly,
 Pulling out of the sub-floor double-barreled shotgun,
 Became Cherry guard.

Yes, hard to reach a cherry.
 Forty bandits, even-odd,
 I caught my Jacques.
 The latest victim was a Showa.
 Him I cut straight from the tree.
 And do not drop in to the left,
 Inveterate bully!

But now we order,
 No one in the gardens do not trample the beds
 And berries are not tears.
 People sighed with relief.
 And I'm on my birthday
 Welded cherry jam
 And I will make compote.

* * *
 In what year - not knows,
 What edge - does not say,
 In the village near the lake
 He lived an old man Matvey.
 She grew up in the house of an ancient
 Branchy cherry - One consolation grandfather,
 She doted on her.

But one dark night but
 The neighbor boy Vsevolod
 Uninvited and unwelcome
 He crept like a thief.
 Decided malice
 Start a nasty piece
 And with cherries Matveeva
 All berries rip.

Fed up with the coveted shelves
 The old man his dvustvolochku
 And zhahnul aimed shot
 Villain right in the forehead.
 A grandfather hid the corpse
 At the grave near the cherry
 And on top planted more
 Parsley and dill.

* * *
 I. Severyanin

It was in a village in the middle of July,
 When the juicy cherries ripen in the garden,
 When the blue night singing songs Zozulya,
 And the frog chorus sang it in a pond.

Oh, purple cherry - the quintessence of summer,
 You - a magnet for poets and poetesses dream.
 And so Seva, despite the prohibitions,
 On Matveevo gracefully climbed the tree.

In the silence, a shot rang out and a bullet lethal
 Ruined poet, extinguished star ...
 It was in a village in the middle of July,
 When the juicy cherries ripen in the garden.

* * *

Crying Talianki barely audible,
 And the fiery dawn
 Zaaleli bunches of cherries
 At the neighbor in the yard.

On a bench near a crib
 The guy the girl podmignёt - Wait, girlfriend, queen,
 Showa berries bring.

Evening velvet down,
 And in the shadow of the dense branches
 With carabiner hiding
 Sly's keeper Matthew's grandfather.

The charms stellar tune
 Butterflies began to dance.
 Not wait girl Seva - In Matthew keen eye.

* * *

In the midst of
 In the garden of my grandfather

Densely hanging
 The cherries on the branches,

Who is there like
 Secretly climbs
 on the tree?
 dead - Showa!

* * *
 Writing about this is not easy,
 But it was the case:
 Aleli cherry high.
 One Alella.

Reason Seva said:
 "Do not go! Not close »,
 But the spirit of obstinacy won,
 I wanted to risk.

Right threw tenacious gaze,
 Then he left,
 Lost only look back,
 Unfortunately, Seva.

He sneaked up the tree
 I climbed timidly.
 Aleli cherry high.
 One Alella.

Perhaps unfortunately for Seva,
 Spite of Morpheus
 I can not sleep in the garden watchman,
 Arrow Matthew.

I Noticed "guest" and learned
 Habits of the thief.
 And in the silence signal is sounded - Click shutter.

Flashed as glass glasses
 Pupil sight.
 Aleli cherry high.
 One Alella.

And that's really Vsevolod reached
 Coveted branches,
 But the shot rang out at that moment
 And very accurate.

So, breaking off the thread of life
 In the top note,
 Matthew marked: "Forty-two»
 In his notebook.

On the ground ripped off a piece of
 Letellier body.
 Aleli cherry high.
 One Alella.

* * *
 A. Barto

Do not hid Seva branch,
 Old Matvei shoot accurately.
 From thieves cherry saved
 Caretaker more than forty times.

* * *
 R. Christmas

This, comrades, do not recall without tears.
 It was a rich farm near the river.
 There's a lush garden, which at the edge of the village,
 High cherries,
 High cherries,
 High Cherry grew freely.

The son of the chairman, smart lad
 Decided while busy on the father,
 Going into the garden, and the crack of dawn
 Public cherries,
 Public cherries,
 Public cherries to eat quietly.

In rapidly climbed the tree Showa,
 But the guard noticed and picked up the shotgun
. Black crows flew up like fireworks:
 And the people have decided,
 And the people have decided,
 And people have decided - Scientists are.

It was a chairman in deep anguish,
 Sliding a tear on the cheek.
 But the guard, in spite of the sadness,
 For faithful service,
 For faithful service,
 For faithful service medal hung.

* * *

L. Filatov
 Of the people I know
 Auburn Seva-swindler,
 I declare fitsiyalno,
 He was a thief and a villain.

I confirm entot reptile
 Three times in the climbing garden Matveev,
 Tyril berries bags.
 There, under the cherry compromising.

Well, Matthew is not a fool,
 Sam knows everything - that as a yes.
 He sat in the garden with a gun in ambush,
 To stop this mess.
 Sees - Seva like a thief
 Climbs cherry Neaten.
 He fired at random.
 What promblema, your mother?

Yes, the confusion at times
etntot  We happened here:
 I was aiming in the ass and salt,
 And I got a bullet in the eye.

I do not understand yadrena louse!
 - Forty-time thing then.
 Whether fly squinted,
 That is my only weapon he did not snipers iron oxides hydroxides?

 A. Rosenbaum

 We came out of the bushes.
 Well, that, Sev, are you ready?
 Here, under the cherry on the hill
 Place for disassembly.
 Leave empty excuses,
 We do not sixes.
 In short, in tomorrow's "Vyachorka»
 You can see his obituary.

 You Seva - syavka, not a thief.
 What broke the agreement?
 You better remember the raspberry
 And with cherries basket,
 Like us on berries tossed
 Exactly half a ruble.
 Well, in general, do not pull the rubber.
 No mercy. Stop it, Matthew.

Sent --- --- Dr.


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