Poetry...
Sergei Zaloukaev
Ok, everyone seems to post a poem these days, i thought i'd
contribute too. (Zak, can you consider this as my entry into that
contest you mentioned?:)
Odin Den'.
snova solnza pokazalsia kraj
nad dalekim gorizontom zemli.
my vspominajem poteriannij raj,
i zdem kogda prijdut korably.
more. voda - cherneje nochi.
bereg. pesok - seree dnia.
i kajdij iz nas chego-to xochet,
no ne znajet gde i kogda.
volna shipia nabegajet na bereg
i uxodit v pesok, ne ostaviv sleda.
tak nasha zisn' proxodit v bezverii,
kapli slez otschitivajut goda.
vera. slovo, lishennoe smisla.
nadezda. zvuk, polnij boli.
mozet iz nas chto-to by i vishlo,
no nas ne vziali na ety roli.
i opiat' solnze skrivajetsia v more,
kak akter za kulissami zakata.
eshe odin den' , polnij boli
ushel. nachalo antrakta.
-Sergei, who's geting ready to be criticized to the ground. :)
--
Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.
Alexander P Rostovtsev
porot' rozgami, prigovarivaya: "Ne pishi, ne pishi!" Okh, prav byl
klassik. A mozhet eto s pogodoj svyazano? Leto - ochen' opasnoe dlya
zdorov'ya vremya - kholera, slovesnyj ponos, komary, grafomany...
Solnyshko opyat' zhe - uzhe ne odnomu golovku napeklo, panamki chto li
odevali by.
AR
Leonid L. Delitsin
(Sergei Zaloukaev) writes:
>
> Ok, everyone seems to post a poem these days, i thought i'd
>contribute too. (Zak, can you consider this as my entry into that
>contest you mentioned?:)
>
>-Sergei, who's geting ready to be criticized to the ground. :)
Ish'ty, razbezhalsya. Tut lyudi po 600 strochek i bolshe posylayut,
a yemu na yego zhalkiye neskol'ko chetverostishiy critiku, podavay.
Net, uvazhayemyj, ty davay, publikuy chto-nibud' posolidneye.
V 1987, kogda ya pytalsya opyblikovat' gde-nibud' svoi stikhotvorchestvo,
mne vyskazali nemalo razumnykh zamechaniy, v tom chisle: yasno, chto
to, chto ty prinyos, yeto sobytiye dlya tebya. No eto yeshyo ne
sobytiye dlya drugikh.
Zamechu, chto stikhi togo, kto mne etu trezvuyu vesh' skazal,
mne ne nravilis', i ya dazhe zabyl ego imya.
Naiboleye lyubopytno bylo nablyudat' avtorov, kotoryje privolokli
svoi sochineniya. Odnu devochku, kotoraya privezla iz Dnepropetrovska
v Moskvu tetrad' stikhov, vystavili za to, chto stikhi byli napisany
ot ruki, a ne napechatany na mashinke. Dovol'no koloritnyj ded,
vyyasniv, chto segodnya stikhi prosmatrivayet Viktor Korkiya, ushyol
vmeste s tomom svoikh stikhov v zolotoy oblozhke, obyasniv, chto
Korkiya - neumnyj chelovek, i stikhov etikh vsyo ravno ne poymyot.
Kakoy-to dovol'no nevzrachnyj muzhichonka prineyos stikhi o desante
i byl osharashen, kogda ikh vzyali na chteniye. A ved' eto yeshyo
do vsyakoy redaktsii.
S.c.s. v etom smysle unikal'naya vozmozhnost': ni moderatora, ni
redaktsii, nichego. Chto by ty ne napisal, neskol'ko desyatkov
chelovek prochitayet, dazhe yesli i ne do kontsa. Yesli nachnyosh'
gnat' sovsem khalturu, predupredyat, chto nadoyel.
Ya dumayu, chto vse pishuschiye dolzhny osoznat' etu
unikal'nuyu vozmozhnost': publikovat' i chitat' otzyvy.
Kritika - polezna, pooschreniye - kak bal'zam na dushu, i samoye
tsennoye - eto otkrytost' i skorost' reaktsii chitatelya.
Mozhno derzhat' chto-nibud' napisannoye godami i dumat', chto
ty - geniy. Mozhno khranit' kakuyu-to ideyu, kotoraya kazhetsya
mnogoobeschayuschey i obnarushit', chto iz neyo nichego ne vyzhmesh'.
Otkrytost' - eto shans dlya pishuschego.
--
Sincerely yours,
Leonid Delitsin
Pavel Groisman
: In article <30kddg$b...@portal.gmu.edu> szal...@mason1.gmu.edu
: (Sergei Zaloukaev) writes:
: >
: >-Sergei, who's geting ready to be criticized to the ground. :)
: Ish'ty, razbezhalsya. Tut lyudi po 600 strochek i bolshe posylayut,
: a yemu na yego zhalkiye neskol'ko chetverostishiy critiku, podavay.
: Net, uvazhayemyj, ty davay, publikuy chto-nibud' posolidneye.
What's wrong with "neskol'ko chetverostishiy"? Ili tebe nuzhno
chto-nibud' epicheskoye, tipa "Iliady"? :-)
mne vyskazali nemalo razumnykh zamechaniy, v tom chisle: yasno, chto
: to, chto ty prinyos, yeto sobytiye dlya tebya. No eto yeshyo ne
: sobytiye dlya drugikh.
Soglasen- yego stikh ne byl sobytiyem dlya _menya_. No ya znayu ne
malo lyudey, kotoriye chuvstvuyut primerno tak zhe. Ty ved', Lyonya,
tut u nas priznaniy spets, naskol'ko ya posmotryu. Vot i dal by
kachestvennuyu otsenku po vsem kanonam poetiki: Kachestvo metafory,
razmer, zvukovoy podbor slov... Zamet', nablyudayetsya li assonans.
Yesli yest, to gde on. Kak tvorets- tvortsu, vzmakhni svoyey rukoy,
oslepi luchami svoyego talanta Seryozhu, day svezhego korma yego
Pegasu! :-)
Ty ved' pishesh' tak professional'no, uboristo... To tam u kogo-to
v gorakh khren vstal, to kogo-to v bane trakhnuli (I samolyot unyos
yeyo, grustnuyu, s rasplyuschenym ob steklo nosom v dymchatuyu dal')
Vzhik! Kartina smenilas'... Vot uzhe pryschaviy lovelas Fedya,
osklabivshis' , shursha kozhey imeyet khoroshen'kuyu amerikanku...
Tebya ochen' priyatno chitat', Lyon'k. Ochen' bystro vsyo prochity-
vayetsya. Yesli by ty zhil vekov tak 16 nazad, ty by, mozhet,
napisal by "Lisistratu". Tol'ko pokruche, prosoliv yeyo muzhskim
potom i khvoynym zapakhom taygi.
Moy point: etot tvoy posting byl interesniy, no ya by vsyo-taki
proanaliziroval yego stikhotvoreniye na tvoyom meste, a ne yernichal.
Khotya- eto tvoyo lichnoye delo.
: --
: Sincerely yours,
: Leonid Delitsin
Peace,
Pasha.
Sergei Zaloukaev
Ne berus' sporit' s tvoimi "vivodami" skazu lish "for the
record": to stihotvoreniej (to which you relied) bylo napisanno v
janvare, a nikak ne letom. prosto ja reshil ego opublikovat' shas.
-Sergei
Vladimir Smirnov
>
>Ya dumayu, chto vse pishuschiye dolzhny osoznat' etu
>unikal'nuyu vozmozhnost': publikovat' i chitat' otzyvy.
Ja vot tozhe reshil. Tem bolee, moja segodnjashnjaja tema
kazhetsja aktual'noj. Itak,
Sluchaj v gorax - 4 (ne bojtes', on korotkij)
Na strelke Kitoja i Shumaka (eto v Sajanax, nepodaleku ot togo
mesta, gde proizoshel Sluchaj v gorax - 2) stoit zimov'e. Takaja
vot bol'shaja derevjannaja izba, v kotoroj ostanavlivajutsja
oxotniki i turisty, Turistov v rajone mnogo - krasivye mesta,
prostye doezdy, i Shumakskie gorjachie istochniki nepodaleku.
(dazhe zimoj voda v nix teplaja)
V etot raz v izbe nochevali celyx 3 gruppy.
Kogda mnogo ljudej nochujut v odnom meste, vsegda naxoditsja
kakoj-nibud' idiot, kotoryj nachinaet travit' anekdoty imenno togda,
kogda vsem xochetsja tol'ko zasnut' poskoree. Vrode neudobno cheloveka
naxuj poslat' - on takoj dobrozhelatel'nyj i veselyj (vrode F-ko),
tak chto vse terpjat i slushajut eti borodatye bajki.
- ... A vy znaete, kak pojmat' medvedja s pomosch'ju bolta i
gajki? Ochen' prosto: privjayvajut bolt k derevu i namazyvajut medom.
Medved' prixodit i nachinaet lizat' med, i postepenno navorachivaetsja
na bolt. Kogda bolt pokazhetsja iz zadnicy, nado podbezhat' i navernut'
gajku. I vse...
Slyshny vezhlivye smeshki. I tut razdaetsja netoroplivyj golos Leshi, po
prozvischu Kachok:
- A vy znaete, kak pojmat' medvedja s pomosch'ju ledobura?
- Net, - otvechaet balagur. - Rasskazhi.
- Nu kak: berut samogo govorlivogo uchastnika, vkruchivajut emu v
zadnicu ledobur i ne vykruchivajut, poka on medvedja ne pojmaet...
Kogda xoxot zatix, obidevshijsja boltun zatknulsja i dal, nakonec,
narodu pospat' spokojno.
Moral' sej basni takova...
- Smirnov
Leonid L. Delitsin
con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
Leonid L. Delitsin (deli...@geology.wisc.edu) wrote:
: In article <30kddg$b...@portal.gmu.edu> szal...@mason1.gmu.edu
: (Sergei Zaloukaev) writes:
: >-Sergei, who's geting ready to be criticized to the ground. :)
: Ish'ty, razbezhalsya. Tut lyudi po 600 strochek i bolshe posylayut,
: a yemu na yego zhalkiye neskol'ko chetverostishiy critiku, podavay.
: Net, uvazhayemyj, ty davay, publikuy chto-nibud' posolidneye.
What's wrong with "neskol'ko chetverostishiy"? Ili tebe nuzhno
chto-nibud' epicheskoye, tipa "Iliady"? :-)
Ya khotel by imet' vybor. Naprimer, odno stikhotvoreniye moglo by
ponravit'sya mne bolshe, drugoye men'she. Ya vybral by to, kotoroye
mne ponravilos' bol'she. Naprimer, ya poluchil otzyv s razborom
sobstvennykh stikhov iz zhurnala Moskva,
gde vsyo, chto ponravilos' tomu, kto eto chital,
bylo podchyorknuto krasnym karandashom, naprimer:
V avtobuse nabitom ty yedesh' spozaranku,
glaza poluzakryty, kosynka naiznanku.
I bystrymi shagami ukhodish' po bul'varu,
gde spryatalis' ot vremeni starinnyje dvory.
Vsya ostavshayasya chast' stikhotvoreniya byla nikak ne pomechena.
Ya znal, chto ostal'naya chast' prosto pridelana k nachalu, no
nadeyalsya, chto dlya drugikh eto "soydyot".
Ya ne somnevayus' v sposobnosti Sergeya gramotno pisat' stikhi.
Ya ne khochu skazat', chto pisat' stikhi gramotno mozhet lyuboy.
Nuzhen vkus. Mne, naprimer, ne nravitsya stil' nedavno
opublikovannogo stikhotvoreniya Mishi Fligenko, kotoroye poluchilo
mnogo positivnykh otklikov. Odnako, ya ne mogu otritsat', chto tam
yest' nekotoroye soderzhaniye: "smysl yest', rifmy netu", kak skazal
Poet Tsvetik. V sluchaye, naprimer, moikh stikhov:
Vspomnit' by na chto volyu promenyal,
vsyo u menya yest', tol'ko net menya.
Dushu prodaval, chyorta rassmeshil.
Chto zhe tak bolit, yesli net dushi?
na _moi_ vkus rifma yest' a smysla net.
Ya v maye prochital otsyv referentov na nauchnyj NSF proposal
(ne moi), v odnom bylo skazano: "The proposed research is
interesting, but I am not excited with it".
To zhe samoye ya mog by skazat' o stikhakh, kotoryje opublikoval
Sergey: stikhi gramotnyje, no ya nichego iz nikh ne zapomnil.
Slovno ikh i ne bylo. Ya ne isklyuchayu vozmozhnosti, chto
kto-to yeschyo prishyol ot nikh v vostorg. Predstavim sebe,
naprimer, chto gruppa molodykh lyudey voz'myot na vooruzheniye
stikhi Sergeya, napishet k nim muzyku, i budet ispolnyat'.
Vozmozhno, so vremenem sotni lyudey budut povtoryat' eti stikhi
kak zaklinaniye, ne govorya uzhe o tom, chto oni budut
vklyucheny vo vse .signature files.
malo lyudey, kotoriye chuvstvuyut primerno tak zhe. Ty ved', Lyonya,
tut u nas priznaniy spets, naskol'ko ya posmotryu. Vot i dal by
kachestvennuyu otsenku po vsem kanonam poetiki: Kachestvo metafory,
razmer, zvukovoy podbor slov... Zamet', nablyudayetsya li assonans.
Da ne v etom delo. My vse zdes' lyudi gramotnyje. Naskol'ko ya
ponimayu, seychas avtory ne sleduyut kanonam,
a ikh narushayut. Poprobuy, naprimer, opredelit' razmer:
Gulyal Vanya v lesu tyomnom,
schital Vanya v lesu breovna.
Gulyal Vanya, ne znal bednyj:
schitat' bryovna v lesu vredno.
Komu kakoye delo do kanonov? Zhizn' korotka. Picasso byl ochen' silyon
v shtudirovanii i vypolnyal zadaniya bystreye drugikh.
Ne budem teryat' vremya na zanyatiya erundoi.
Opublikovannyje stikhi vpolne gramotnyje, pisat' avtor umeyet.
Ne mne yego uchit'.
Pust' on opublikuyt chto-nibud' interesnoye, chtoby ya skazal:
"vot eto - da!" Togda ya napishu: "vot eto - da!"
A poka vsyo chto ya mogu skazat': publikuy, ya budu chitat'.
Blago vozmozhnost' publikovat' yest'.
Kogda lyudyam ponravitsya, kto-nibud' obyazatel'no proboltayetsya.
Nu, a chtoby ne govorili, chto ya sam tol'ko kosteryu chuzhiye
stikhi, smotri, chto ya v svoyo vremya napisal:
A ty opyat' ne mozhesh' mne prostit'
nenuzhnykh slov, bessmyslennykh priznaniy,
i ya opyat' pytayus govorit'
o tom, o chyom nel'zya skazat' slovami.
Na svete vsyo, chto raduyet menya,
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
glyadit tvoimi yasnymi glazami.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I struny tikho, radostno zvenyat
o tom, o chyom nel'zya skazat' slovami.
Vot to, chto ya podcherknul, bylo podchyorknuto i v otsyve.
Bylo skazano, chto nichego novogo v etom, konechno, net,
no yemu, tomu kto chital, eto ponravilos'.
Dal'she poekhali:
Ty legka, kak vesenniy veter,
uvlekayuschiy oblaka.
Ya zabyl obo vsyom na svete
i vlyubilsya v tebya (slegka).
^^^^^^^
S raspisaniyem ne schitayas'
oblaka za toboy plyvut.
Nado budet uznat' tvoi adres
i sprosit': kak tebya zovut.
V otsyve bylo napisano: "nu uzh, yesli ty 'zabyl obo
vsyom na svete', to eto ne 'slegka'".
Eto kak raz byli stikhi, kotorye ya pisal
"Fligenko mode ON", to yest' - razvlekalsya.
Kritik tsenil svoyo vremya i ne tratil yego
na razyasneniya. No on otsenil i moyo namereniye
yego razvlech', tem boleye, chto v kachestve
nazvaniya ya pozaimstvoval u odnogo "nastoyaschego"
poeta: "Razmyshleniye o korove".
Leonid L. Delitsin
but I have to defend the skin of my hero.
In Article: 44296 of soc.culture.soviet
con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
Vzhik! Kartina smenilas'... Vot uzhe pryschaviy lovelas Fedya,
osklabivshis' , shursha kozhey imeyet khoroshen'kuyu amerikanku...
Vo-pervykh, ya protestuyu protiv stol' neprivlekatel'nogo opisaniya
moikh geroyev. Fedya khotya i molod, no kozha u nego chistaya i
ukhozhennaya. Lyudi, kotoryje nazhimayut "n", kogda vidyat moi opusy
mogut iz chteniya tvoyej stat'i poluchit' nevernoye predstavleniye.
Vo-vtorykh, to chto Fedya snoshaytsya s kem zakhochet, eto prosto i
yasno i ne trebuyet spetsial'nogo opisaniya. On kstati i
"ne khochet", eto vse vokrug "khotyat". Deystviye "sex-2",
v otlichiye ot "sex-1" budet razvivat'sya, v osnovnom,
v posteli, no i tam uchastnikom processa budet ne Fedya.
To tam u kogo-to
v gorakh khren vstal, to kogo-to v bane trakhnuli (I samolyot unyos
yeyo, grustnuyu, s rasplyuschenym ob steklo nosom v dymchatuyu dal')
Banya - vazhnyj element romaticheskikh istoriy, khotim my etogo ili
net. Yesli geroi ne mogut vstrechat'sya v bane, oni dolzhny po
krayney mere kupat'sya v rechke ili ozere. Yestestvenno, podnyav
glaza, oni dolzhny videt' brigadu traktoristov, naslazhdayuschuyusya
zrelischem. V osobennosti, yesli geroinya - amerikanka i mozhet
potom razrazit'sya nedoumyonnoy statyoj na s.c.s.
Geroi mogut speshit' nasladit'sya drug drugom i v kuzove dvizhuschegosya
gruzovika GAZ-66, a posle ostanovki geroy mozhet prinesti
geroine buket edel'veysov. A chto delat'? Zhizn' korotka.
vayetsya. Yesli by ty zhil vekov tak 16 nazad, ty by, mozhet,
napisal by "Lisistratu". Tol'ko pokruche, prosoliv yeyo muzhskim
potom i khvoynym zapakhom taygi.
Chto takoye Lisistrata? Kto eto napisal? Pro chto eto?
Mne stydno, no ya ne znayu. Vot "Zolotoy osyol" ya chital.
Naschyot "pokruche" - eto ne yavlyaetsya moyej tsel'yu.
Situatsiya mozhet byt' dikaya, odnako, pri yeyo opisanii
mozhno ostavat'sya v ramkakh esteticheski dopustimogo.
Sergei Zaloukaev
>Ish'ty, razbezhalsya. Tut lyudi po 600 strochek i bolshe posylayut,
>a yemu na yego zhalkiye neskol'ko chetverostishiy critiku, podavay.
>Net, uvazhayemyj, ty davay, publikuy chto-nibud' posolidneye.
>
Nu ne vse ze takije genii (grafomany?) kak ty. Ok, just kidding.
You want "pobolshe", "posolidnee", ok here it comes, and remember - you
asked for it! :))
Justa note: please consider, that this story was written over 2 years
ago. My english was pretty rusty then. Besides, it was my first serious
fiction ever! So the style is a little crude. I don't ask for any
"special treetment" :))) just thought you should know.. ok on with it.
---------------------------------------------------
THE MOST HUMANE OPTION.
On the morning after the operation Ms. Jones pulled into the
parking lot of the St. Mary's Hospital. She locked the door of her
blue sedan and started across the lot towards the "B" wing. Before
she reached the entrance, Ms. Jones heard the siren: an ambulance
drove up to the entrance, and people in white carried a stretcher
out of the ambulance.
"Ah, another poor soul must have had a heart failure," thought
Ms. Jones compassionately.
She continued on her way, and soon arrived to the 7th floor of
the "B" wing. Just as she stepped out of the elevator, Ms. Jones
was greeted by a cheerful, large man, Dr. Brian M. Adams, as the
tag on his snow-white suite indicated.
"Ms. Jones! Such a pleasure to see you!" Dr. Adams rushed towards
her, smiling.
"Hello, Doctor... how is she?" Quickly asked Ms. Jones; she had
a worried expression on her face, "it has been 5 hours since we
talked on the phone, is there any change in her condition?"
"There's nothing to worry about, her condition is stable, and
what's more: our preliminary analyses show that the operation was
successful; if all goes well, you'd be able to take her home in a
week, or so." Dr. Adams had a cheerful smile -- a trademark of his
profession -- fixed on his face.
Ms. Jones (her first name was Selma, but no one, not even
herself, ever used it) sighed with visible relief.
"Oh, Doctor, I am SO glad! You can't imagine what burden your
words have lifted, I thought my poor baby will never be able to
lead a normal life again. I am so grateful!"
Dr. Adams smiled, understandingly.
"So, Doctor, can I see her now? I haven't seen her since... oh,
since that evening when the ambulance took her away." -- Ms. Jones
began sobbing, but then realizing that it was all over and past,
smiled apologetically.
"Well," Adams said, "I could let you visit her, but only for a
few minutes; you understand -- she is still recovering from
anesthesia."
"Oh, just a look at her, just to see that she is alright."
"Very well, then, let me show you to a changing room, there's a
sterile garment there, that you should put on. After that I will
accompany you to her room."
Ten minutes later Ms. Jones was led by Dr. Adams through the
long corridor, it's walls were covered with white, non-reflective
plastic, and had UV lamps build into them. They stopped in front
of the door which had number 37 painted on it.
"All right, here you are, but remember -- only a few minutes;
when I call, you will have to leave," instructed Dr. Adams before
opening the door.
Ms. Jones entered the room. It was white, as everything in the
hospital; a number of complex machines were lining up the walls, a
computer terminal sat in one corner, a huge life support unit -- in
another; and there, in the middle of the web of tubes and cables,
on a small bed, lay her baby, her beauty... her tigress -- a large
grey cat with the stripes of orange in her fur. Her eyes were
closed, her whiskers twitched a little in her sleep, she had tubes
running out of her paws, neck, abdomen; the bald, shaven patches
here and there on her body contained electrodes and sensors.
Ms. Jones' face lit up with delight, as she looked at her cat, who
only a couple of days ago was almost a goner (being nearly eighteen
years old, having had too clinical deaths and being resurrected
twice). She walked around the bed, looking and looking, careful
not to touch anything, not to disturb her darling's sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, in Dr. Adams' office, they were
discussing the time of Petey's (that was the cat's name) release.
"I am quite confident," Dr. Adams was saying, "that in a week we
could safely give her back to you, providing that you take
appropriate care of her, once she's at home."
"Oh, don't worry, I will do everything you tell me to, just so I
can have her back!"
"OK, then how about next Friday at ten o'clock, would you be able
to come and pick her up?"
"I am afraid, Doctor, that I can not do it at ten; you see, I
have this stupid appointment with the physician about doing
euthanasia on my mother. She has been a total wreck for the past
year, cost me a couple of thousand in medical expenses -- no
surprise, though, a woman is 58 years old! I am so glad they are
finally getting it over with."
"Yes, and she would not have to suffer any longer; I think
euthanasia is a very humane option in such cases," added Dr. Adams,
and smiled softly. "Then let's make our appointment at twelve. Is
it OK?"
"Yes, twelve is just fine, Doctor, thank you. Can I call you
tomorrow to find out how Petey is doing?"
"Certainly, Ms. Jones, you can call me anytime; you have my
private line number, don't you?"
"Yes. Thank you for everything, Doctor, thank you for saving
Petey's life, you don't know how much she means to me!"
Dr. Adams just smiled warmly, it was all part of his job: to
save lives of those pets, and to accept the gratitude from the
pet's owners; all part of the job...
* * *
As Ms. Jones was pulling out of the parking lot, she thought
how glad she was, having her cat alive and having her back soon.
The only irritating thing on her mind was this business of going
through all the formalities, signing all the papers connected to
her mother's euthanasia. But fortunately it will soon be
over, and as Dr. Adams had put it: mother will stop suffering, so
it is a good thing for her as well. Ah, our society is indeed so
humane!
Yes! Sometimes dead is definitely better, -- thought Ms. Jones.
THE END
Copyright (c), 1992. By Sergei Zaloukaev.
--
Don't let people drive you crazy when you know it's within walking
distance.
Pavel Groisman
: con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
: What's wrong with "neskol'ko chetverostishiy"? Ili tebe nuzhno
: chto-nibud' epicheskoye, tipa "Iliady"? :-)
: Ya khotel by imet' vybor. Naprimer, odno stikhotvoreniye moglo by
: ponravit'sya mne bolshe, drugoye men'she. Ya vybral by to, kotoroye
: mne ponravilos' bol'she.
Ponyatno. A ya, tem ne meneye, prokommentiruyu, pochemu ono ne
bylo stikhotvoreniyem dlya menya: Eto nyt'yo (izvini, Segey). Ono
moglo by byt' ochen' udachnym, yesli by predstavlyalo iz sebya
vzglyad ametistovykh glaz iz-pod sedykh, navisshikh brovey; vzglyad,
ustremlyonniy v volnistiye dali, iz kotorykh poyavlyayutsya korabli
yunosti, takiye vozdushniye, lyogkiye, polniye nesbyvshikhsya gryoz.
I dazhe v etom sluchaye eto ne budet novym. Khotya- eto ne vazhno,
v printsipe.
: Mne ne nravitsya stil' nedavno
: opublikovannogo stikhotvoreniya Mishi Fligenko, kotoroye poluchilo
: mnogo positivnykh otklikov.
A eto pro Freyda, Marksa, Iisusa i Einshteyna? Po-moyemu, nichego,
no uvy, eto syuzhet dlya skul'ptury "Misha, vykhodyaschiy iz imidzha"
: yest' nekotoroye soderzhaniye: "smysl yest', rifmy netu", kak skazal
: Poet Tsvetik. V sluchaye, naprimer, moikh stikhov:
: Vspomnit' by na chto volyu promenyal,
: vsyo u menya yest', tol'ko net menya.
: Dushu prodaval, chyorta rassmeshil.
: Chto zhe tak bolit, yesli net dushi?
: na _moi_ vkus rifma yest' a smysla net.
Gy! Eto mne napominayet stishki, kotoriye ya pisal v 15-16 let:
Pokazali mne zvyozdy ulybku Khrista
I rastayali v utrenney mgle,
A na tyomnom litse priotkrylis' usta
I otdali dykhaniye Zemle
Ya uzhe sumasshedshiy, derzhite menya,
Ya ubil cheloveka v sebe,
Sladkiy dym krematoriya zhazhdet ognya-
Osveschat' moi mysli vo t'me.
A chto? Odnoklassniki taschilis' v raznykh pozakh.
Moy drug menya pereplyunul, on v 15 let pisal vot takiye
podvodyaschiye itog zhizni stikhi:
Prosti, moy drug, za to, chto bylo,
Za to, chto yest', ne obessud',
Za to, chto nas svedyot mogila,
Za to, chto vremya ne vernut'.
Prosti, moy drug, za volyu Boga,
Za dum bezradostniy polyot,
Za nashu obschuyu dorogu,
Za nash razdel'niy shag vperyod.
Krasivo? V rifmu? A kakoy smysl on v nego vkladyval, buduchi 15-letnim?
Mda-s, vot tak-to. :-)
.
: Vozmozhno, so vremenem sotni lyudey budut povtoryat' eti stikhi
: kak zaklinaniye, ne govorya uzhe o tom, chto oni budut
: vklyucheny vo vse .signature files.
Da! Da! Lyudi budut delat' sebe nakolki s etimi stikhami, ikh vysekut
na Statuye Svobody, na sobore Sv. Petra v Rime, imi budut spiral'no
ispisany rostral'niye kolonny v Pitere, imi ispishut steny vsekh
muzhskih tualetov v Ugande, v Marokko budet sozdan klub lyudey,
dlya kotorykh smysl zhizni zaklyuchayetsya v meditativnom proch-
tenii etikh stikhov, luchshiye kompozitory Yevropy napishut k
nim melodii v stile gregorianskih gimnov! Pesni na eti melodii
budut ispolnyat' luchshiye golosa Yevropy pered kazhdym vazhnym
beysbol'nym matchem! Tserkov' adventistov sed'mogo dnya provozgla-
sit Sergeya svyatym, yego stikhi budut chitat' kak na svad' be, tak
i na pokhoronakh, s nego budut pisat' ikony! Na zadnem plane na etikh
ikonakh budet izobrazhena strannaya i protivorechivaya kommuna SCS,
s litsami, iskazhyonnymi bolyu, vnimayuschaya spiritu poeta, pogruzha-
yuschego yeyo v kisel' svoyey boli. (Seryozh, ne obizhaysya, eto ya
shuchu tak :)
: Da ne v etom delo. My vse zdes' lyudi gramotnyje. Naskol'ko ya
: ponimayu, seychas avtory ne sleduyut kanonam,
: a ikh narushayut. Poprobuy, naprimer, opredelit' razmer:
: Gulyal Vanya v lesu tyomnom,
: schital Vanya v lesu breovna.
: Gulyal Vanya, ne znal bednyj:
: schitat' bryovna v lesu vredno.
Nu, yesli zapisat' eto tak:
Gulyal Vanya
V lesu tyomnom,
Schital Vanya
V lesu bryovna... i t.d.
To budet obychniy ABAB s "bugorkom" v kazhdoy strochke:
_''_, gde "_"- neudarniy slog, a "'"- udarniy. Kak eto
nazyvayetsya v kanonakh, ya ne pomnyu, no eto opredelyonno
fiksirovanniy razmer.
: A poka vsyo chto ya mogu skazat': publikuy, ya budu chitat'.
Khm.. Eto yemu ili mne? ili- oboim? V lyubom sluchaye, posmotri
k12.lang.russian, ya opublikoval tam svoi stikhi nedavno (segodnya)
:-) Thread nazyvayetsya ; "Vzyali raz", a stikhotovreniye-
"Skvoz' son".
: Nu, a chtoby ne govorili, chto ya sam tol'ko kosteryu chuzhiye
: stikhi, smotri, chto ya v svoyo vremya napisal:
: Na svete vsyo, chto raduyet menya,
: ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
: glyadit tvoimi yasnymi glazami.
: ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
: Vot to, chto ya podcherknul, bylo podchyorknuto i v otsyve.
: Bylo skazano, chto nichego novogo v etom, konechno, net,
: no yemu, tomu kto chital, eto ponravilos'.
Da mne tozhe- eto krasivo.
Tak ty opublikoval kogda-nibud' chto-nibud'?
I yeschyo- lyubopytno: ty tak i nabirayesh' vsyo v
transliteratsii ili potom skvoz' "pipe" kakoy-nibud'
propuskayesh'?
: --
: Sincerely yours,
: Leonid Delitsin
Peace,
Pasha.
P.S: Seychas ya teb i na vtoroy article otvechu.
Pavel Groisman
: Vzhik! Kartina smenilas'... Vot uzhe pryschaviy lovelas Fedya,
: osklabivshis' , shursha kozhey imeyet khoroshen'kuyu amerikanku...
: Vo-pervykh, ya protestuyu protiv stol' neprivlekatel'nogo opisaniya
: moikh geroyev. Fedya khotya i molod, no kozha u nego chistaya i
: ukhozhennaya. Lyudi, kotoryje nazhimayut "n", kogda vidyat moi opusy
: mogut iz chteniya tvoyej stat'i poluchit' nevernoye predstavleniye.
Tak to-zh shutka byla :-) Glavnoye -to, chto ot podavlyayuschego
bol'shinstva tvoikh tvoreniy nesyot aromatom buystvuyuschey molodoy
spermy. Nu, ladno, skazhem, eto stil' u tebya takoy.
Yesli geroi ne mogut vstrechat'sya v bane, oni dolzhny po
: krayney mere kupat'sya v rechke ili ozere. Yestestvenno, podnyav
: glaza, oni dolzhny videt' brigadu traktoristov, naslazhdayuschuyusya
: zrelischem. V osobennosti, yesli geroinya - amerikanka i mozhet
: potom razrazit'sya nedoumyonnoy statyoj na s.c.s.
Mne srazu vspominayutsya cheshki, kotoriye priyekhali v russkuyu
derevnyu delat' restavratsionniye raboty v mestnoy tserkvushke.
Bednyazhki.. Tam yeschyo byli suroviye rebyata iz brigady steklozavoda
"Krasniy khimik". Chem ne syuzhet dlya tebya? :-)
: vayetsya. Yesli by ty zhil vekov tak 16 nazad, ty by, mozhet,
: napisal by "Lisistratu". Tol'ko pokruche, prosoliv yeyo muzhskim
: potom i khvoynym zapakhom taygi.
: Chto takoye Lisistrata? Kto eto napisal? Pro chto eto?
: Mne stydno, no ya ne znayu. Vot "Zolotoy osyol" ya chital.
A.. Eto takoy drevnerimskiy fars, napolnenniy vlazhnym
dykhaniyem Erota. Sama po sebe vesch' - sotsial'naya, no tam
kucha vsyakih potnostey. A avtor, kazhetsya, Aristofan.
: Naschyot "pokruche" - eto ne yavlyaetsya moyej tsel'yu.
: Situatsiya mozhet byt' dikaya, odnako, pri yeyo opisanii
: mozhno ostavat'sya v ramkakh esteticheski dopustimogo.
Hehe.. Day-ka ya sebe predstvalyu...
Na gigantskoy ploschadi stoit katafalk, napolneniy izvivayuschi-
misya golymi telami, izdayuschimi nechelovecheskiye zvuki, v kotorykh
ukho khoroshego muzykanta razlichilo by kuchu zverinykh postanyvaniy
i vozbuzhdyonnykh vzdokhov. Kucha myasisto sokraschayetsya, perevaliva-
yas' s tela na telo, ostavlyaya na dne katafalka lipkiy pakhuchiy sled.
Nad katafalkom reyut orly i sam Padshiy Angel medlenno svodit i razvodit
svoi gryazniye kryl'ya, shurshaschiye, kak bumaga, kotoroy zastilayut
dno v musornom vedre.
Vokrug katafalka veselyatsya deti. Beliye, chyorniye, krasniye, zhyoltiye,
golubiye, fioletoviye, - deti vsekh stran i narodov tantsuyut svoi natsio-
nal'niye tantsy, zakidyvaya katafalk buketami tsvetov. Chardash, kalinka,
rumba, lambada- vsyo smeshalos' v messive tantsuyuschikh detey. Po nebu
begut raznotsvetniye tuchi, kazhdaya v forme kresta.
... I ty, Lyon'ka, sidish' na bugorke i, teplo glyadya v dal',
proiznosish':
"My tam zhenaty, venchany, my te
Dvuspinniye chudovischa, i deti
Lish' opravdan'ye nashey nagote..."
: --
: Sincerely yours,
: Leonid Delitsin
Peace,
Pasha.
Leonid L. Delitsin
con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
> Tak to-zh shutka byla :-) Glavnoye -to, chto ot podavlyayuschego
> bol'shinstva tvoikh tvoreniy nesyot aromatom buystvuyuschey molodoy
> spermy. Nu, ladno, skazhem, eto stil' u tebya takoy.
Chem bogaty...
> A.. Eto takoy drevnerimskiy fars, napolnenniy vlazhnym
> dykhaniyem Erota. Sama po sebe vesch' - sotsial'naya, no tam
> kucha vsyakih potnostey. A avtor, kazhetsya, Aristofan.
Oh, well, that is what made me so uncertain. Aristofan should be not
17, but something like 23 centuries ago. Indeed he wrote Lisistrata,
but let me tell you truth, I didn't read it. I tried Aristofan
several times and each time couldn't read more than a page because
of his "scs-flamewarrior" style. My nerves are too week, I need
something more pleasant for the eye.
> Vokrug katafalka veselyatsya deti. Beliye, chyorniye, krasniye, zhyoltiye,
> golubiye, fioletoviye, - deti vsekh stran i narodov tantsuyut svoi natsio-
> nal'niye tantsy, zakidyvaya katafalk buketami tsvetov.
> rumba, lambada- vsyo smeshalos' v messive tantsuyuschikh detey. Po nebu
> begut raznotsvetniye tuchi, kazhdaya v forme kresta.
Looks like the USSR collapse for me.
Leonid L. Delitsin
con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
> vzglyad ametistovykh glaz iz-pod sedykh, navisshikh brovey; vzglyad,
> ustremlyonniy v volnistiye dali, iz kotorykh poyavlyayutsya korabli
> yunosti, takiye vozdushniye, lyogkiye, polniye nesbyvshikhsya gryoz.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Eto yeshyo o chyom? Uzh ne o tom li, v chyom Valentin, geroi moyej serii
"kuyeva tucha" (gde ya pytayus' assistirivat' yemu po mere vozmozhnosti)
sleduyet zavetu Pushkina: "blazhen, kto smolodu byl molod"?
Ne o den'gakh zhe.
>: Dushu prodaval, chyorta rassmeshil.
>: Chto zhe tak bolit, yesli net dushi?
>
> Gy! Eto mne napominayet stishki, kotoriye ya pisal v 15-16 let:
Mne bylo uzhe 19, kak raz samoye ono. V 16 ya byl gorazdo umenye i
pisal (da prostyat menya za nazoilivoye povtoreniye te, kto chital
pro "chyornoye telo"):
Korotki minuty nashikh vstrech',
no neotsenimo ikh znacheniye.
V plameni, chto Vy smogli zazhech'
vykovany nashi ubezhdeniya.
(direktoru shkoly po zakazu klassnoy rukovoditel'nitsy).
> Moy drug menya pereplyunul, on v 15 let pisal vot takiye
> podvodyaschiye itog zhizni stikhi:
>
> Prosti, moy drug, za to, chto bylo,
> Za to, chto yest', ne obessud',
> Za to, chto nas svedyot mogila,
> Za to, chto vremya ne vernut'.
[...]
> Krasivo? V rifmu? A kakoy smysl on v nego vkladyval, buduchi 15-letnim?
Eto kak "dyetyam do 16-ti". Nechego tut diskriminatsiyu razvodit'.
Est', kstati stikhotvoreniye Konstantina Vasilyeva:
Ya videl svoyo pogrebenye:
vysokiye svechi goreli,
kadil neprospavshiysya dyakon
i sonnyje pevchiye peli.
i t.d.
Pravda, nado otdat' yemu dolzhnoye, on umer molodym.
> Da! Da! Lyudi budut delat' sebe nakolki s etimi stikhami, ikh vysekut
> na Statuye Svobody, na sobore Sv. Petra v Rime, imi budut spiral'no
[...]
> i na pokhoronakh, s nego budut pisat' ikony! Na zadnem plane na etikh
> ikonakh budet izobrazhena strannaya i protivorechivaya kommuna SCS,
> s litsami, iskazhyonnymi bolyu, vnimayuschaya spiritu poeta, pogruzha-
> yuschego yeyo v kisel' svoyey boli. (Seryozh, ne obizhaysya, eto ya
> shuchu tak :)
K tomu vremeni scs budet uzhe na perednem plane, a ne na zadnem.
Ya ne shuchu. Pritom, a gde devushki?
>: A poka vsyo chto ya mogu skazat': publikuy, ya budu chitat'.
>
> Khm.. Eto yemu ili mne? ili- oboim? V lyubom sluchaye, posmotri
> k12.lang.russian, ya opublikoval tam svoi stikhi nedavno (segodnya)
> :-) Thread nazyvayetsya ; "Vzyali raz", a stikhotovreniye-
> "Skvoz' son".
Yemu. Naschyot k12.lang.russian: u menya poyavilas' vozmozhnost' chitat'
etu gruppu tol'ko v maye. Mnogiye, veroyatno, ne imeyut k ney dostupa.
Nechego zanimat'sya erundoy, nado publikovat' stikhi zdes'.
Chitaya "skvoz' son" ya poluchil bol'shoye naslazhdeniye, nadeyus',
chto drugim tozhe ponravitsya. Ochen' redko na s.c.s. mozhno chitat'
khoroshiye stikhi "zhivogo" avtora.
> Tak ty opublikoval kogda-nibud' chto-nibud'?
Eto dovol'no smeshno. V 1980 ya, podrostok, napisal pis'mo-parodiyu
i otpravil v odin zhurnal. Pis'mo ne bylo napechatano, no odnazhdy ya
obnaruzhil tsitaty iz nego v peredovoy statye zhurnala, gde pro menya bylo
skazano: "takiye, kak on, v gody voyny otsizhivalis' po cherdakam i
podvalam, a to i sotrudnichali s okkupantami". Ya vozblagodaril Boga,
chto podpisalsya vymyshlennym imenem. Tem ne meneye, ya sebya seychas
prichislyayu k liku dissidentov.
Potom ya vpal v vozrast pisaniya stikhov, i dazhe, odnazhdy,
raznosil svoi stikhi po zhurnalam, otkuda menya gonyali, no priglashali
na kursy, chtoby sdelat' iz menya cheloveka. No ya uzhe ponimal, chto ya-
ne poet po svoyemu mirovospriyatiyu, i chto stikhi sochinyal posredstvenno.
Tem ne meneye, pokhodit', poglyadet' na drugikh bylo polezno.
> I yeschyo- lyubopytno: ty tak i nabirayesh' vsyo v
> transliteratsii ili potom skvoz' "pipe" kakoy-nibud'
> propuskayesh'?
Ya pishu na "translite". Odin iz moikh druzey natreniroval svoi
perekodirovschik dlya MakIntosha ponimat' moi translit, pomimo prochikh
zadach. Tak chto on chitayet menya v kirillitse i dazhe prisylayet mne
raspechatki (vyglyadit ochen' smeshno, osobenno, kogda ya ispol'zuyu
English words, kotoryje programma pytayetsya perevodit'). Slozhnost'
sostoit v tom, chto ya ispol'zuyu raznyje sochetaniya simvolov dlya
kodirovki odnikh i tekh zhe bukv.
Irina Khrebtukova
[...]
Ja teper' tvoj fan, Pasha... :-)
Chto by tam ni skazali.
Ura! (DYK!!!)
----
I, fan od Pavel Groisman.
Alexander P Rostovtsev
>In article <rosto001.774759457@maroon> rost...@maroon.tc.umn.edu (Alexander P Rostovtsev) writes:
>>A.P. Chekhov rekomendoval sleduyuschij sposob bor'by s pisatel'skim zudom:
>>porot' rozgami, prigovarivaya: "Ne pishi, ne pishi!" Okh, prav byl
>>klassik. A mozhet eto s pogodoj svyazano? Leto - ochen' opasnoe dlya
>>zdorov'ya vremya - kholera, slovesnyj ponos, komary, grafomany...
>>Solnyshko opyat' zhe - uzhe ne odnomu golovku napeklo, panamki chto li
>>odevali by.
> Ne berus' sporit' s tvoimi "vivodami" skazu lish "for the
>record": to stihotvoreniej (to which you relied) bylo napisanno v
>janvare, a nikak ne letom. prosto ja reshil ego opublikovat' shas.
Sergey, nothing personal, just general feelings and impressions.
And of course - no objections to creative writing at all, everybody is
entitled to hir own share on insanity and this kind of obcession is benign
enough. Meanwhile, I've got the impression that preparing our papers for
publication we are more thoughtful.
Take it easy, buddy. One guy who published lots of his poetry told me once
that the best way to keep going is to keep your ass well pudded.
AR
Alexander P Rostovtsev
>: vayetsya. Yesli by ty zhil vekov tak 16 nazad, ty by, mozhet,
>: napisal by "Lisistratu". Tol'ko pokruche, prosoliv yeyo muzhskim
>: potom i khvoynym zapakhom taygi.
>: Chto takoye Lisistrata? Kto eto napisal? Pro chto eto?
>: Mne stydno, no ya ne znayu. Vot "Zolotoy osyol" ya chital.
>
> A.. Eto takoy drevnerimskiy fars, napolnenniy vlazhnym
> dykhaniyem Erota. Sama po sebe vesch' - sotsial'naya, no tam
> kucha vsyakih potnostey. A avtor, kazhetsya, Aristofan.
Pisateli, dushi zemli Russkoj (Amerikanskoj? Whatever)
Zolotogo Osla one chitali, Aristofana...
Zolotogo Osla napisal tov. Apulej. Ego esche podrastayuschij v
sadakh Litseya Aleksandr Sergeevich (net, ne akademik Spirin) ochen'
uvazhal: "Chital okhotno Apuleya, a Tsitserona ne chital".
AR
Vladimir Smirnov
>In <30ps7p$j...@nic.umass.edu> con...@titan.ucs.umass.edu (Pavel Groisman) writes:
>
>
>>: Chto takoye Lisistrata? Kto eto napisal? Pro chto eto?
>>: Mne stydno, no ya ne znayu. Vot "Zolotoy osyol" ya chital.
>>
>> A.. Eto takoy drevnerimskiy fars, napolnenniy vlazhnym
>> dykhaniyem Erota. Sama po sebe vesch' - sotsial'naya, no tam
>> kucha vsyakih potnostey. A avtor, kazhetsya, Aristofan.
>
>
> Zolotogo Osla napisal tov. Apulej. Ego esche podrastayuschij v
SoBZDvenno, nikto i ne utverzhdal, chto Zolotogo Osla napisal Aristofan.
- Smirnov
Leonid L. Delitsin
In article <rosto001.775061416@maroon>
> Zolotogo Osla napisal tov. Apulej. Ego esche podrastayuschij v
>sadakh Litseya Aleksandr Sergeevich (net, ne akademik Spirin) ochen'
>uvazhal: "Chital okhotno Apuleya, a Tsitserona ne chital".
Well, since we have an expert around, let's clarify the dates.
Pavel Groisman said, that I had to live about 16 centuries ago in order
to make something, comparable with "Lisistrata". Which puzzled me,
because I supposed, that to get to Aristofan's time, I has to travel
about 6-7 centuries more in time, so I said: 23 centuries. Besides,
I mentioned, that I was not able read neither "Lisistrata", nor anything
else by this author.
Still thinking, what could be written about 16 centuries ago, I recalled
"The gold ass" (well, it sounds great, especially in a context of this
discussion), which indeed was written by Apuley.
So, does anyone remember, when was it written? To clarify Aristofan's
time would be nice also.
As to Tsitseron's stuff, that was about 80 B.C., I guess.
Leonid L. Delitsin
rost...@maroon.tc.umn.edu (Alexander P Rostovtsev) cites his recipe
to the people, who entertain others by publishing their stuff:
>>>A.P. Chekhov rekomendoval sleduyuschij sposob bor'by s pisatel'skim zudom:
>>>porot' rozgami, prigovarivaya: "Ne pishi, ne pishi!" Okh, prav byl
>>>klassik. A mozhet eto s pogodoj svyazano? Leto - ochen' opasnoe dlya
and writes
>And of course - no objections to creative writing at all, everybody is
>entitled to hir own share on insanity and this kind of obcession is benign
>enough. Meanwhile, I've got the impression that preparing our papers for
Now let me offer a recipe as well. Before publishing some of your stuff,
choose arbitrarily 10 s.c.s. authors, and reply to each second of their
messages, using words and sentences like: "you, motherfucker", "go, and
buy a clue for yourself", "stupids, like you", "kiss my ass" and so on.
Don't reply to their replies, leaving their revenge dissatisfied, but
attack other authors.
After a week of proceding like that, publish your stuff. You will be
surprised, how insightful it will look for the readers.
Btw, it would be not a bad idea to go through your creature before,
looking at it with a view of the person, who just fucked a dozen of
authors. You may see, what you can improve. I do not joke.
Martinson Julia
>
....
>So, does anyone remember, when was it written? To clarify Aristofan's
>time would be nice also.
>As to Tsitseron's stuff, that was about 80 B.C., I guess.
According to 'Chambers Biographical Dictionary':
Aristophanes (c.448-c.388 BC)
Apuleius, Lucius (2nd century)
Cicero, Marcus Tullius (103-43 BC)
So you were correct in your travelling in time.
--
mart...@ere.umontreal.ca
Pavel Groisman
: In article <rosto001.775061416@maroon>
: rost...@maroon.tc.umn.edu (Alexander P Rostovtsev) writes:
: > Zolotogo Osla napisal tov. Apulej. Ego esche podrastayuschij v
: >sadakh Litseya Aleksandr Sergeevich (net, ne akademik Spirin) ochen'
: >uvazhal: "Chital okhotno Apuleya, a Tsitserona ne chital".
: Well, since we have an expert around, let's clarify the dates.
: Pavel Groisman said, that I had to live about 16 centuries ago in order
: to make something, comparable with "Lisistrata".
Ty sovershenno prav, ya sputal "nashu" eru s "do nashey" eroy.
Po-moyemu, my otvleklis' :-) Nu-ka, vse obratno na Parnas..
Peace,
Pasha.
Leonid L. Delitsin
szal...@mason1.gmu.edu (Sergei Zaloukaev) writes:
>Justa note: please consider, that this story was written over 2 years
>ago. My english was pretty rusty then. Besides, it was my first serious
>fiction ever! So the style is a little crude. I don't ask for any
>"special treetment" :))) just thought you should know.. ok on with it.
Doesn't matter. Let's see first, if there is anything exciting there.
The better your style is, the more difficult it will be understand
for the people with poor English, like me.
I would note also, that it has sence to post stories under separate
subjects, because some people could put in their KILL-file the whole
thread "Re: Poetry...", or just press <n>, when they see my name near the
header. So, they could miss the story.
> THE MOST HUMANE OPTION.
>
> On the morning after the operation Ms. Jones pulled into the
[...]
>was greeted by a cheerful, large man, Dr. Brian M. Adams, as the
>tag on his snow-white suite indicated.
I like this description.
> Ms. Jones (her first name was Selma, but no one, not even
>herself, ever used it) sighed with visible relief.
So, was she so ugly? She is "Ms.", so is she still a virgin?
Does she like sports and music? Does she enjoy sex?
See, I got all this questions, after reading this note, and I know,
they will be not answered. If she is ugly, I don't want to read about
her any more, since she doesn't appear to be a nice person as well.
>only a couple of days ago was almost a goner (being nearly eighteen
>years old, having had too clinical deaths and being resurrected
>twice).
I get the point. Why didn't you cross-post it to alt.sex.bestiality?
> "I am afraid, Doctor, that I can not do it at ten; you see, I
>have this stupid appointment with the physician about doing
>euthanasia on my mother. She has been a total wreck for the past
>year, cost me a couple of thousand in medical expenses -- no
>surprise, though, a woman is 58 years old! I am so glad they are
>finally getting it over with."
Well, here we start some calculations:
personage age
Mother 58
cat 18
Selma Jones [18-40]
So, she could purchase a cat at 22 at very last.
In any case it doesn't look convincing for me. She seems to be too
young. Besides lonely women (whom never [even her mom?]) calls "Selma"
(well, I doubt, such women exist here) usually love their mothers
more than they love cats.
I wouldn't be surprised if some married woman needed to get rid of her
mother, but not in this case.
> Yes! Sometimes dead is definitely better, -- thought Ms. Jones.
So far the story doesn't look like a possible (using fuzzy sets
terminology) for me. Besides, it seems to me to be a little obsolete.
I mean, it might look great for Moscow may be, like some
"Lyudmila Nikolayevna" complains to the doctor "Mikhail Moisseyevich",
that her mother (the veteran of the Afganistan war), costed her a
couple of thousands bucks last year.
American reader probably will believe in that.
But they appear to be highly human here nowdays.
You can try to modify your story: Ms. Selma Jones, 72, is arranging
euthanasia for herself (after long consultations with her mother, 94,
who suggests to live an fight), but still cares about her turtle, 213.
Ms. Jones feels old, tired and frustrated. She cannot have skies in
mountains last couple of years, so she loses her admirers (lesbians,
of course). Besides, she, an old fan of Michael Jackson, has lost any
hope to meet him ever, since he prefers boys.
Ok, I am waiting for your new stories, ready to criticise them heavily.
Timothy Watson
(Leonid L. Delitsin) writes:
(someone wrote some russian) ;)
Oh, well, that is what made me so uncertain. Aristofan should be not
17, but something like 23 centuries ago. Indeed he wrote Lisistrata,
but let me tell you truth, I didn't read it. I tried Aristofan
several times and each time couldn't read more than a page because
of his "scs-flamewarrior" style. My nerves are too week, I need
something more pleasant for the eye.
Don't like "The Clouds"? It's true, it is much too harsh on such a
genius as Socrates. It just proves that philosophical geniuses - I
respect S. for his skepticism and straightforwardness - and creative
playwrights might not even recognize each other's talents.
--
--
Timothy M. Watson |Something there is that doesn't
tmwa...@engin.umich.edu |love a wall, that wants it down.
BioEngineering Program Grad Student | -Robert Frost, 'Mending Fences'
Olga Vol
|> Banya - vazhnyj element romaticheskikh istoriy, khotim my etogo ili
|> net. Yesli geroi ne mogut vstrechat'sya v bane, oni dolzhny po
|> krayney mere kupat'sya v rechke ili ozere. Yestestvenno, podnyav
|> glaza, oni dolzhny videt' brigadu traktoristov, naslazhdayuschuyusya
|> zrelischem. V osobennosti, yesli geroinya - amerikanka i mozhet
|> potom razrazit'sya nedoumyonnoy statyoj na s.c.s.
Davajte obobschim. Banja ustroena na beregu Oneghskoj guby iz tenta
ot "Varty" i gorjachih kamnej. Nu i vody, sootvetstvenno. Traktoristy
ne dobredajut, tak chto vmesto nih - bajdarochnyj karavan. I, chto
harakterno, vsem bolee ili menee pofig. Moghet potomu, chto narodu
dovol'no mnogo, vnutri tenta gharko i malo mesta, a voda v Onege
daghe v avguste holodnaja - kak raz to, chto nado.
"Vse dovol'ny, vsem horosho" (V.Lantzberg, "Aborigeja"). Pravda,
s sjughetom ploho, konflikta ne hvataet, chto li... a, sobstvenno
govorja, zachem? (ozadachenno)
--
Olga Vol
Sergei Zaloukaev
>
> Ya v maye prochital otsyv referentov na nauchnyj NSF proposal
>(ne moi), v odnom bylo skazano: "The proposed research is
>interesting, but I am not excited with it".
>To zhe samoye ya mog by skazat' o stikhakh, kotoryje opublikoval
>Sergey: stikhi gramotnyje, no ya nichego iz nikh ne zapomnil.
>Slovno ikh i ne bylo. Ya ne isklyuchayu vozmozhnosti, chto
>kto-to yeschyo prishyol ot nikh v vostorg. Predstavim sebe,
>
Leonid, ja absolutno s toboj soglasen, byvaut stixi krasivije,
no bez smisla, byvaut, so smyslom, no ne f rifmu, itd, byvaut i
krasivije i v toze vremia nesushije glubokij smisl. NO eto kak ty
pravilno skazal - na lubitelia. Naprimer dlia menia, v tom
stixotvorenije chto ja opublikoval est' bolshoj smisl, ja ne napisal ego
prost tak, s xodu, ja dolgo dumal o veshax kotorije otrazeny dlia menia
v nem. No eto dlia menia, navernoe ja ne smog peredat' to chto ja
chuvstvoval v tot moment dostatochno xorosho. Oh, well...
Chtoz, davajte poprobujem koe-chto drugoje. Sledushee
stixotvorenije ne imeet nikakogo pochty smisla (a mozet i imeet, no
gde-to "gluboko":). No mozet komu-to ponravitsia sochetanije slov...
ja vishel na ploshad' segodnia
vzglianut' na zvezdy kremlia;
a tam prodovali Rodinu,
s lotka za chetyre rublia.
ja glianul na cennik i axnul:
kak mozno!? za darom daesh'!
a on mne otvetyl nevniatno:
nu chto? ty beresh? ne beresh?
zasunul ja ruki v karmany,
posharil - nashel piatak.
uvidev, chto ja bez deneg,
on molvil: beri zatak.
ja sunul zapazuxu svertok,
zapaxnulsia, poshel k reke;
no idty mne bylo ne prosto,
chto-to davilo v dushe.
ja vinul svertok, rasputal
bechevku. otkryl ego.
i tut mne stalo tak zutko,
chto brosil ja v reku ego.
poplyl on, krutias' i kachajas',
i skrylsia v volnax, vdaleke.
a ja postojav, shatajas',
prileg otdoxnut' na peske.
pod zvon i groxot tramvajev
ysnul ja, i snilos' mne,
chto adress mne svoj ostaviv,
ja ushel ot sebia nalegke.
poshel ja po gorodu, znaja,
kuda mne prijty suzdeno.
uvidev nat kupolom znamia,
ja ponial - a vot i ono.
ja stenu vokrug oboshel,
na ploshad' na ty ja prishel,
uvidel ja zvezdy Kremlia,
i umer. Xoroniat menia.
xoroniat menia ne s prosta,
xoroniat menia u mosta.
mogilshik! gliadi veselej!
da jamu kopaj pobystrej.
my v jamu opustym menya,
zemlizi nasipem sverxu,
i budu pokojnikom ja,
poka ne sjediat menia chervi.
Vladimir Smirnov
>nu chto? ty beresh? ne beresh?
>
>
>zapaxnulsia, poshel k reke;
>no idty mne bylo ne prosto,
>chto-to davilo v dushe.
>
>ja vinul svertok, rasputal
>bechevku. otkryl ego.
>i tut mne stalo tak zutko,
>chto brosil ja v reku ego.
>(...)
>ja stenu vokrug oboshel,
>na ploshad' na ty ja prishel,
>(...)
>my v jamu opustym menya,
>zemlizi nasipem sverxu,
>i budu pokojnikom ja,
>poka ne sjediat menia chervi.
Kakaja klevaja pankuxa!!!
Odni rifmy chego stojat: "kachajas' - shatajas'", "prishel - oboshel",
"reke - dushe", "daesh' - beresh'","ja - menja", "ego - ego"... Ne xvataet
tol'ko rifm "botinok - polubotinok" i "pravyj - levyj". Zdorovo.
Ja tak ne umeju.
- Smirnov
Pavel Groisman
Sergei Zaloukaev (szal...@mason1.gmu.edu) wrote:
Dovol'no krupniy stikh- propuschen...
: my v jamu opustym menya,
: zemlizi nasipem sverxu,
: i budu pokojnikom ja,
: poka ne sjediat menia chervi.
Klassnaya rifma: "sverkhu- chervi". Ya ot neyo prosto "prishyol".
Tper'- vseryoz:
Sergey, v nashem universitete (Umass-Amherst) yest' russkiy E-mailing
list. Obychno on dovol'no trupovat, no vot odnazhdy odna devushka s
tomnym imenem Rita Belousova opublikovala vot eto stikhotvoreniye.
Pravda, ona skazala, chto eto- ne yeyo. Vnimaniye- vopros (gong):
Publikoval-li ty eto stikhotvreniye ran'she v kakoy-nibud' newsgroupe,
yesli net, to znayesh'-li ty etu devushku?
Peace, Pasha.
: --
Leonid L. Delitsin
>
>Davajte obobschim.
boleye umestnoye slovo: oposhlim
>Banja ustroena na beregu Oneghskoj guby iz tenta
>ot "Varty" i gorjachih kamnej. Nu i vody, sootvetstvenno.
Eto - ne banya. Eto - konnyj turizm s prepyatstviyami.
>Traktoristy ne dobredajut,
eschyo by, chto oni, rekhnulis' chto-li
>harakterno, vsem bolee ili menee pofig. Moghet potomu, chto narodu
>dovol'no mnogo, vnutri tenta gharko i malo mesta, a voda v Onege
>daghe v avguste holodnaja - kak raz to, chto nado.
Eto mne skoreye napominayet "banyu im. Karbysheva",
kuda nas vozili na voyennykh sborakh.
>s sjughetom ploho, konflikta ne hvataet, chto li... a, sobstvenno
>govorja, zachem?
Khoroshiy konflikt mozhet imet' mesto tol'ko v khoroshey bane.
Ili posle. Chitay "kto spit s Markovnoy", dolzhno poyavit'sya v
techeniye dvukh blizhayshikh nedel'. Tam banyu ya sam topil,
tak chto s konfliktom budet polnyj poryadok.
Leonid L. Delitsin
szal...@mason1.gmu.edu (Sergei Zaloukaev) writes:
>ja stenu vokrug oboshel,
>na ploshad' na ty ja prishel,
>uvidel ja zvezdy Kremlia,
>i umer. Xoroniat menia.
>
>xoroniat menia ne s prosta,
>xoroniat menia u mosta.
>mogilshik! gliadi veselej!
>da jamu kopaj pobystrej.
Chto-to bol'no nevesyoloye stikhotvoreniye.
A vot chto ya napisal v svoyo vremya:
Posledniy den' pridyot kogda-nibud',
i ya perestuplyu yego porog.
-Gotov li ty idti v posledniy put',
- surovo sprosit samyj glavnyj bog.
...
Zato potom(1991), ya stal pisat' gorazdo boleye vesyolyje stikhi:
Ya uyedu na Zapad v blizhayshem godu.
Ne volnuytes', uzh ya-to tam ne propadu!
Budu veselo zhit', kak geroi bylin,
vodku shvedskuyu pit' i laskat' Marilin.
Nash segodnyashniy mir bestolkov i zhestok.
Vse na Zapad khotyat, i nikto na vostok.
I neyasno, nu kak eto urazumet':
net nigde nichego, vse khotyat vsyo imet'.
Ej, a nu ubiraysya s puti, ostolop!
A ne to ya lopatoy khvachu tebya v lob!
Ne volnuysya, lopatoy-to ya popadu!
I uyedu na Zapad. V blizhayshem godu.