worthless consolation

Few exporters?
Play with lies.
Whose joke is worse!
Take a look at the street by surprise -
from her face
whose is not a cab?
Poet whether
sings about herself and about the rose,
girl eh

an ear will be woven into a curl -
see you,
off the goat
king of taverns,
yernik and boo.
If they tell me:
- Remember,
Sidorov
died? —
will not forget,

surprised,
measure them with your eyes.
ABOUT, who wants to
remember number
hired to drag from birth to death?!
Все равно мне,
that they don't water their horses,
that in the morning they do not polish the arches -
from the streets,
with endless goat

stupid
their face,
open only by scuffle and abuse.
Children,
you have
remained.
Nothing.
Grow up.
soon
in a thin cam you will clamp a whip,

swearing shaking the city.
I walk among the cabs.
Hat on the nose.
More solemn, than a line of Derzhavin's odes.
Day yet -
and I'll stay alone
I,
slow and thoughtful pedestrian.

[1916]

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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