One day I was walking along the quay.
Work carried with barges in wheelbarrows
Firewood, brick and coal. A river
It was still blue from white foam.
The collar of his shirt unfastened
Looking tanned body,
And bright eyes Privolnaya Russia
Gleamed severely blackened with persons.
And then the children with bare feet
Churned pile of yellow sand,
Taskale - to kirpičik, it flew,
then a log. and hid. And there
Already flashed dirty their heels,
And the mother - with pendulous breasts
Under dirty dress - waiting for them, swearing
AND, provided zatreschyn, selected
Firewood, bricks, breveshki. and dragged,
Bent under the heavy burden, into the distance.
And again, vorotyas hurboy veseloy,
Guys started stealing:
He - a log, another - brick…
And suddenly there was a splash and scream:
"fell! fell!"- shouted again with barge.
Working, handle releasing cars,
He is showing a hand somewhere in the water,
And a motley crowd rushed shirts
There, where on the grass, in stones cobblestone,
On the shore - lay weaving.
One was carrying a gaff.
And between the piles,
Goals in the water near the waterfront,
Easily swayed people
The shirt and torn pants.
One grabbed him. another helped,
And the length of the stretched body,
With a stream which flowed water,
They dragged to shore and put.
policeman, rattling his saber on the stones,
Why some cheek to the breast
Namokshey and diligently listened,
must be, a heart. people gathered,
And every newcomer asked
The same stupid questions:
when I dropped, so many lay
In water, I drank so much?
Then all became quiet retreat,
And I went on his way, and listened to,
How earnest, but drunk worker
Authoritatively told others,
What kills people every day wine.
I go for another wander. As long as the sun,
As long as the heat, as long as the head
Dull, and thoughts are sluggish…
Poems are brilliant