#mayakovsky

Cat sleeping on my pillow – Winter night and bad weather. Right to the top of the warm belly – Got the same fashion! Lights out at the head To dream something funny, And its cat's love Keeps away the fog

Stirred in the fire Golden beetles… After all, dream of such a Wake sometimes: Cat Matroskin in the garden created kebabs And crunchy frogs filed on the second. Ball bone gnawed, the postman was humming,

Come at night expensive black Silver under the starry roof, And he who hears the unspeakable, And who knows what might have been, And he who turns back opens the way, Changing the point. Tramp-the wind

Having grown rich in fishing schooners, Caspian Sea drunk from the north end. On the shore - a wave of clumsiness and immediately lies down a real puddle. On the puddles and dirt, shore covered, labored

(Sensations of Vladimir Mayakovsky) If only in the fingers held earth reins I, I would the land stopped for a minute: Attention! Do you hear, feathers creak mechanical and simple, as if teeth creaking

All I want to hug, yes there is not enough ardor, - where you will not think the eye of the story, everywhere you remember what was, and then, what is. From mockery from the tsar's eye Of Russia was busted.

In our farm - hole by hole. Waste weight, expenses swarm. therefore we at home we borrow. Of course, there are no fools for nothing give away your coin. Loan so so launched, that all income - and takers

Today I, poet, a fighter for the future, dressed like a fool. In one hand - wreath huge from the huge, in another - from tea - pink bouquet. I'm going through motor gasoline darkness in the Louvre . Folding

In newspapers write some uncles, what started lovingly tap the woodpecker. Soon view of Moscow copied from Nice, flowers will create on the spring dictates. They write, that already tits look at the nests

I would like to you glorify in an inspired dress, only an ode something does not come out. How many ideals death in the kitchen and under the blanket! My friend - woman as a woman, deaf from the primus

There were in daddy children - gymnasium. On a cap-cap - silver leaves. In the gymnasium - trotting. Head - turnips. Loads blond - Latin, epic. Drive in grammar in the head-the fool, mate-m-tika and

In any institution, wherever you prepolzhayte, is heard palms creaking: this with help handshakes people spread the flu. But the bacillus none has no right climb at you without a visa of the People's Commissar

In the radio white Europe climb, trampling and murmuring: this threatens Moscow avenge for a friend you. Listen the voice of Rykov - the people forged his voice - one hundred million people you

The Paris "Latest News" writes: "Chaliapin donated 5,000 francs to the priest Georgy Spassky on the Russian unemployed in Paris. 1000 is given to the former naval agent, captain 1st rank

Today bullet hired hands gunned down Comrade Voikov. Pinch sorrow in the teeth tight, anxiety twist staunchly. We demand accurate and a clear answer, without diplomacy, holo: "Are you for the

Even gelding wish life elegant and beautiful. Rotates playfully tail and mane. It always swirls, but especially fervently - if towards person-filly. Even more graceful, still whimsical seeks humanity to

The belly on the altar of the fatherland Vopit Abroad newspaper swarm, that the pilot Lindberg hero! Loafer! From New York in Paris flew to betting. Who will believe? What children? Where is his witness?

The rumor is coming meaningless and nasty, rubs in ears and the heart is heeling. They say, that the wills of decay our among young people. They say, that another brother, earned the order, now about the

(Foreign newspapers publish an unquestionable protest of Russian writers.) Writer Ivan Ivanych Honorarchikov government Soviet accuses, of course, that lives-de writer sealed casket and owns Castle obscene

Komsomol - two million. And the circulation? A hundred thousand froze and does not multiply. Where organization and our scope? It's are obtained scissors. What rest one million nine hundred? Read, refraining