Вольный перевод стихотворения Николая Алексеевича Заболоцкого "Самовар"
Samovar-the Lord-of-Belly,
You’re a precious Roomdom Pope!
Your breast’s shiny like the jelly,
I can see Me in its slope!
Oh, the Emperor of cups,
One of the kettles’ highest priests,
Your deep boiling murmur cuts
Those who are malicious beasts.
I’m a pure, innocent Lady
Like the unspoiled, little flower.
Well, for me is pouring something shady,
Thin and slim from the Hot-water-tower;
And my dear room, so tiny,
Starts to blossom like forget-me-not,
Everything is sunny, shiny,
Thank you, Samovar-my-hot!
Samovar
© Copyright: Дмитрий Красюков, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120041001558
Свидетельство о публикации №120041001558
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