Джон Леннон - Испалец в колесе (сборник на русском и английском)
- Название:Испалец в колесе (сборник на русском и английском)
- Автор:
- Жанр:
- Издательство:Агрогород
- Год:1992
- Город:СПб.
- ISBN:5-88398-001-5
- Рейтинг:
- Избранное:Добавить в избранное
-
Отзывы:
-
Ваша оценка:
Джон Леннон - Испалец в колесе (сборник на русском и английском) краткое содержание
Эта книга, как и предыдущая, In His Own Write, представляет собой сборник абсурдистских стихов, рассказов и пародий, для которых характерны игра слов, каламбуры и чёрный юмор. В качестве объектов пародий выступали самые разные жанры — от сказки о Белоснежке и семи гномах (Snore Wife And Some Several Dwarts; причем пародируется, скорее всего, не столько оригинальная сказка, сколько диснеевский мультфильм — в тексте есть фраза «…in a dizney far away…») до письма читателя в газету (Readers Lettuce). Иллюстрировал книгу сам автор.
Испалец в колесе (сборник на русском и английском) - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию (весь текст целиком)
Интервал:
Закладка:
«Ей даже не довелось попробовать пирога», — сокрушалась няня. Жабуясь Доктору (не тому) Бернардо на следующее утро.
«Не беда, — вообразил он, — мы отдадим пирог собаке, та съест его за милую тушу».
С такими словами Доктор вытащил старую няню на новый ковер и разнес ее в пух и прах.
«Нельзя приготовить пирог, не съев его, — сказал жизнерадостный кость, пришедший выразить особые лезнования, и добавил: — Согласно статистике, 90 % или даже больше несчастных случаев происходят при неосторожном обращении спичками детьми в доме».
Last Will and Testicle
«I, Barrold Reginald Bunker-Harquart
being of sound mind you, limp and bodie,
do on this day the 18 of Septemper 1924th,
leave all my belodgings estate and brown
suits to my nice neice Elsie. The above
afformentioned hereafter to be kept in a
large box untit she is 21 of age, then to be
released amongst a birthdave party given
in her honour. She will then be wheeled
gladly into the Great Hall or kitchen,
and all my wordly good heaped upon her
in abundance. Thus accordianto my will
will this be carried out as I lie in the
ground getting eaten.»
This then was the last will and testicle of I Barrold Reginald Bunker-Harquart, which was to change the lives of so many peoble — speciality little Elsie whom was only thirteens.
«Are you sure I have to stay in the box?» asked Elsie childishly.
«Yer not deaf are yer?» yelled Freud Q.C. what was helping. «Yer 'eard the familias solister as good as we didn't yer?»
«I was only makeing conversation» replied Elisie who was only thirteen.
Just then Elisies dear Old Nanny Harriette broke down in tears and everybody walked quietly out of the room leaving her to her grease, except Dr (not the) Barnado.
«There there Harriette, that won't bring the Mastered back» he said knowingly.
«I know I know» she bluttered «its not that, its where are we going to find a box to fit her foot? tell me that, where are we going to find a box to fit her foot?» Luckily the Dr knew a carpentor in the village who was A WONDER WITH WOOD. «I'm wonder with wood.» he used to say, as he sored his way through life — with a naiI in one hand and polio in the other (his light hand being stronger than his lest). «Children should be seized and not hard» was something Uncle Barrold had always said and even Old Nanny had always replied «Overy clown has a silver lifeboat» which always dried him ap.
Anywait, Elisie was soon entombed in her made to marion box, and people from miles adavies would come and visit HER, but only when it was sunny — for she was kept rightly in the garden. «At least she'll get some fresh air.» argued Old Nanny — and she was right.
Three years parst and a great change had come over Elsie. Her once lovely skin was now roof and ready, some say it was that last bitter winter, others say it wasn't. Her warm smile which made one forget her hairlip was now a sickly grin, but enough of that.
Less and lessless people came to visit Elsie especially since Old Nanny had put the price up. The Dr had kindly devised a scheme whereby Elsie could call for anything she wanted. It was a primitive affair, but effective — just a simple microphone tied into Elsie's mouth. This was attached to a louder speaker in the kitchen. Of course when Old Nanny was away on holiday, she would turn the speaker off. «No point in her shouting if I'm away» she would explain.
The years flew by for Elsie in her own box, sooner no than it was coming round to her twenty-first burly. «I hope I get the key of the door» she thought, forgetting for a momemt she was getting the whole house. The place was was certainly in a state of anticipatient on the ear of Elsie's birthdaft, and Old Nanny celebrated by bringing her into the house for «a warm by the fire» as she put it. Unfortunately Old Nanny seemed to place birthday Elsie too near the big old fireplace and her box caught alight with Elsie still wrapped firmly inside like her Uncle asked.
«She didn't even eat her cake,» said Old Nanny tearfulham to Dr (not the) Bernardo the next morning.
«Never mind» he wryled. «we'll give it io the dog, he'll eat anything.»
With that the Dr leaped over and gave Old Nanny a thorough examination on her brand new carpet.
«You can't have your cake and eat it» said a cheerful paying guessed adding, «Statistics state that 90 % of more accidents are caused by burning children in the house.»
Наш отец
Пришла пора, старик отец
Стал и сварлив, и скучен.
Смекнув, в чем дело, наконец,
Засобирался в путь он.
Сказал: «К чему вам инвалид?
Дурен в старых нрав!»
А мы не смели и вздохнуть:
«Как ты чертовски прав!»
Казалось, вечность паковал
Он старый свой мешок.
А мы — в дверях, спеша его
Отправить за порог.
Пустив слезу, он продолжал:
«Какой с калеки прок?»
«Избавь нас от своих причуд,
Поганый ты сморчок!»
Он сморщил жалобно лицо,
Взгляд выражал тоску.
Полтинник дали мы ему
И крепкую клюку.
«Обиды не держи, отец, —
Мы прослезились тут. —
Терпели долго мы тебя,
Гороховый ты шут!»
Протез железный свой забрал,
Засунул он в суму
И пенис, чем сыграть в бильярд
Раз довелось ему.
«Мне в путь, — проблеял жалко он, —
Черкните пару строк!»
Кто устоит? — Мы пишем враз
Закупочный листок.
«Прощайте же, мои сыны,
Не ваша здесь вина.
Все это мать, она со мной
Уж разочлась сполна».
«Ты мать не тронь, — взревел тут брат,
Клокочет ярость в нем. —
Тебя в два раза старше, но
Приносит деньги в дом!»
Обиженно вскричал отец:
«Хоть гром меня срази!
Я б лучше сдох, чем шлюхой быть
И жить в сплошной грязи!»
«Она-то в бане что ни день, —
Так прозвучал наш хор. —
Ты посмотрел бы на себя,
Паршивый сутенер!»
С порога обернулся он.
Нам помахал рукой,
Благ пожелал, и чтобы мы
Следили за собой.
Чуть покривив душой, мы вслед:
«Удачи, старикан!
Полюбишь ты работный дом!»
(Хоть это был обман.)
Вот он ушел, накроем стол,
Чтоб помянуть его.
Спешим в чулан, где жил старик
И пестовал свой горб.
Не только деньги нас там ждут —
В разгар своих хлопот
Старик-еврей оставил нам
И пенсионный счет.
На радостях — подругу в дом,
Во всей ее красе.
Она — одна, но так мила,
Что позволяет всем.
Отец нам весточек не шлет,
Не дай-то Боже — вдруг.
Но в памяти остался он
Приятель наш и друг.
Our dad
It wasn't long before old dad
Was cumbersome — a drag.
He seemed to get the message and
Began to pack his bag.
«You don't want me around,» he said,
«I'm old and crippled too.»
We didn't have the heart to say
«You're bloody right it's true.»
He really took an age and more
To pack his tatty kleid.
We started coughing by the door,
To hurry him outside.
«I'm no use to man nor beast,»
He said, his eye all wet.
«That's why we're getting rid of you,
Yer stupid bastard, get.»
His wrinkIed face turned up to us
A pleading in his look;
We gave him half-a-crown apiece
And polished up his hook.
«It's not that we don't like you dad.»
Our eyes were downcast down.
«We've tried to make a go of it
Yer shrivelled little clown!»
At last he finished packing all,
His iron hand as well.
He even packed the penis
What he'd won at bagatell.
«Spect you'll write a line or two?»
He whined — who could resist?
We held his face beneath the light
And wrote a shopping list.
«Goodbye my sons and fare thee well,
I blame yer not yer see,
It's all yer mothers doing lads,
She's had it in for me.»
«You leave our mother out of this!»
We screamed all fury rage,
«At least she's working for her keep
And nearly twice your age!»
«I'd sooner starve than be a whore!»
The old man said, all hurt.
«Immoral earnings aren't for me,
and living off her dirt.»
«She washes everyday,» we said
Together, all at once.
«It's more than can be said for you
Yer dirty little ponce!»
At last upon the dooistep front
He turned and with a wave
He wished us all «Good Heavens»
And hoped we'd all behave.
«The best of luck to you old dad!»
We said with slight remorse,
«You'll dig it in the workhouse man.»
(He wouldn't though of course.)
Интервал:
Закладка:
