And again, like open fires,
Lights of a thunderstorm over darkness.
So who won - Martynov
Ile Lermontov in the duel of that?
Dantes il Pushkin?
Who is there first?
Who won and got off the ground?
Who is this white dear?
Have you taken the black sled?
Oh my God! By all accounts,
Another won there, another,
Not the one in the snow
He lay with a curly head.
What to do if in a scramble wild
Always a fool was in sight.
Meanwhile, how great a man is,
How did a boy get into trouble?
Than I console the afflicted
The insignificant superiority of evil
Glorified and vanquished
Poets who died in vain?
I will say this: that’s not the point,
Once upon a time, which year
Forgot, we overlooked,
But everything goes the other way around!
Martynov fell beneath that mountain
He was punished hard
And a crow at night
He was tormented and carried.
But Lermontov, but first
Everything started and drove the horse,
And the woman shouted to him:
"Love me, love me!"
Dantes was lying among the snowdrifts
I didn’t know how to rise from the ground,
And past slowly, sternly,
Without looking back, people walked.
He died or remained alive -
No one could tell.
But Pushkin drank wine, laughed,
Cursed and mischievous.
He wrote poetry, did not know sorrow,
His business went well
And shrugged everything,
And Natalie smiled.
To save them forever
This order is approved.
And the triumphant ignoramus
Sentenced and convicted!
