b_mikhailov (b_mikhailov) wrote in a_vituhnovskaya,
b_mikhailov
b_mikhailov
a_vituhnovskaya

THE BRIDE



Something hazy,
gray,
homosexual
was in the swampy chaos of
my bride's bathrobe.
I heard
from heaven:
"She will eat you!
She will eat you! "
I was looking for reassurance
as an existential poet
In matters
like question of
French morbid half-genius:
What will save me? -
the anal integrity of
completely distraught
moneylender?
Old Italian slut,
which appeared as if
from black-and-white porno from the sixties?
And a boy, drooling, with a member cut off,
and knees, concaved inward,
like almost broken,
mechanical grasshopper? ..
I am this boy!
I did not grow up! Do you hear?
Kissing me, do disdain me, darling!
After all, I am full of those drunk
animal depressions.
At the same time -
I remembered
(From inside
I remained to be
amazingly sober) -
I knew
that there is no salvation,
And that she will eat me.
And that God resembles a hunger
of brides like this one.
Перевод: Rolanda Delenevengarda

Русский оригинал (НЕВЕСТА): http://polutona.ru/?show=0209170053

Tags: в переводе
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