Night's like any other. Street's deserted.
No surprise.
Why you'd had that prideful, virgin
Flair in eyes?
... Here a herd of policemen is marching
Under lights
From the lanterns. Plywood toys; straps, arching,
Hold them tight.
Here a pompous coachman flys as ghost in
Asphalt creek.
Next to it is pedestal that's hosting
Gallant dick.
Factories. The smoking chimneys.
Clouds go by.
Here I kiss your lips, my pixie:
Well, goodbye.
Here I stroll along the fence and shudder,
Hat's askew.
Walking like a thief, I hide in shadows
All way through.
Just like any decent poet, when one's
Twenty two.
I'm in love, and possibly, these plain words
Are now true.
Перевод стихотворения Б. Рыжего Ночь как ночь...
© Copyright: Карташов Анатолий, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117101500937
Свидетельство о публикации №117101500937
Рецензии