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        | Andrey VoznesenskyruPoem
        (Translated by Alec
        Vagapov)November 2000 
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        |     |   All drawings done by Andrey Voznesensky  
       
 
       
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          | Firstà Dedication   | The site
          reminded me of the reflection 
          of a cathedral. It was striped. I
          sailed. 
          I was on
          line. Beyond the cogged erection 
          the " love you" virus bloomed and hailed.
           
          I was on
          line. It was by far more real 
          than the Mossad orÅ Zoo. I was on line. 
          Mozart was
          floating upside-down, like a reel, 
          up on the piano. 
          And the site was mine.
           
          I was on
          line. Like little Saturns 
          the raviolis were hanging up on height. 
          My hope seemed
          venturesome, all of a sudden. 
          It was my
          site. 
           
          I thank You
          once again, oh God, 
          I am
          allowed to enter the satanic paradise,
          or rather
          hell, - it's stuffy - I am out,
          I'm on your
          site,
          how nice! 
           
          And if you,
          thunder-stricken, cannot bear
          àthis upside down façade,
          àdon't come to play, if you don't
          care
          àabout my
          site. 
           
          I'm somersault of my inverted Motherland. 
          I'm a
          clown, and itÒsà
          cranberry,- not blood. 
          We're sick and tired of purges. ItÒs so
          hard. 
          I am on
          line.à Speak
          out, land. 
           
          You have
          become the love of my existence 
          determining the living of my loving instance.   |  
 |  Andrey Voznesensky,
        "The Virtualà Wind'"
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          | Second
          Dedication  | You're lost. I say on oath. 
          I'll save it in my soul. It's true. 
          One seventh
          part of earth
          àwith such a
          tiny name as "ru". ... |  
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          | Thirdà Dedication  | -RU,
          WHERE ARE YOU OFF TO? TELL ME PLEASE! -TO THE INTERNET! THE WEB,
          THAT IS! |  
 | Poems. Translations. Essays Andrey Voznesensky.
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          | Chat 1   | As I run out in the morning
          I look around and I view:
          beyond Rublyovskyà Highway - there's ru
          and in the wood where berries grew- there's
          ru 
           
          Corrupted, dishonest-àà ru
          reproved and disparaged - ru
          the steering wheel, rudder -à ru
          the name of Vrubel has -à ru!
           
          Repeated stupidity Ö gee!
          I scan ità
          in the wind and I see
          the ECGà of double u
          www and dot and ru
          I like three w and dot
          and ru.
           
          www-three boats ofà Rurik's?
          and the accordion at night?
          the song aboutà cows? All right?
          3 crowns and surety
          the CIA and GRU
          à(Security)
          ru ru-banks
          haveà shaved us all like planks.
          At nightà
          my t-shirt flies up in the sky 
          oh my!
          waving like mad forth and back
          along with messianic ru aliasà of Bach!
           
          Is Ru so bad?
          New York, Beirut and Kaunas cast spells.
          They steal at homeà like nowhere else!
          We scold ourselves when we're
          abroad!
          We steal,
          but save our souls and pray to God.
          www. a foreign nation.ru
          www.a corporation.ru
          www.a
          troubadour.ru
          ÑIÒll crush youÒ- yells the sillywoman.ru
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          | Chat
          2  | States are governed by
          cooks. Look out.
          Boys and girls are on line all this while.
          There is nothing disgraceful aboutàà 
          hackerÒs valour and hidden smile..
          What goes on in your heart, hacker, lass?
          Daughter.ru? Final specialised class?
          No, itÒs worn chrysopaz.
          And despite the protective charters
          crystal lenses get tired, alas.
           
          Hairdresserà
          gets half of your salary
          for the hair you wear so happily,
          àÓDeath to trashÔ, stylish hairdo,
          as you leaf throughà the pages of HarperÒs
          like a piggy you breathe,à
          yes, you do.
          In your cardiogram thereÒre hackers,
          pretty lassie among them, too.
          www.goodheavens!ru. www.CityLibrary.Pushkin ru
          www. roulette. Russia.ru
          www.Kursk.ru
          Or betrayal
          of wickedà
          guru?
 àààààààààààààààààààà    |  
 | ÓCompassion
        ofà
        StradivariusÔ Andrey Voznesensky
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          | Chat
          3  | Now take care!
          DonÒt smash them glasses-
          Casts of bustsà of Antoinette.
          The interior of terra incognita
          is defined as the Internet
           
          Your clean-shaven PC engineer,
          what on earth did, in fact,à
          he assume?
          He was daft toÒve
          adorned the interior
          with the medical sketch of the womb.
           
          ItÒs an object of tender affection
          likeà
          a red, purple map of hisà
          land,
          doesnÒt look like the imitation
          of anà office,
          important and grand.
           
          HeÑs a pro and aà leech, well I never!
          Like a baby, a hairless man.
          HeÒs ÓinspiredÔ-à you see? How clever!
          Well begun!
           
          ÓItÒs disgusting! Symbolic!
          Capacious!Ô
          The abused and insulted wall
          shuddered angrily with indignation
          tumbling down andà taking a
          fall.
           
          Pink as soap, a soul or some spirit
          From within Kamasutra
          whined:
          ÓInner life! Never try to play with it !
          Inner world! Never look insideÔ.
           
          Andà
          his skull was a-shaking , which followed
          by the gush of the ring in his ear,
          and we saw by the wall it was swallowed.
          Oh dear!
           
          First the skull, then the leg disappeared
          in the stony and mortal game.
          It was long till the stone-work appeared 
          to be calm and quiet again.
           
          Where are you crazy boy,
          àwhereÒre are ye goinÒ
          to?
          Comet rain will be next, you bet?
          The interior of terra incognita
          is defined as the internet. àwww. rurgas.ru
          àwww.orgasm.ru
          àwww.buseness.ru
          àmouse looks for aà hole Ö
          àruÅ
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          | Chat
          4à(without RU)   | I am without you
          ItÒs like being without ru.
           
          Venus dressed in kaftan
          
          will be changed to Kafka
           
          They rob and (ru)in
          like nowhere else
          (ru)blyovsky Highway. 
          ÓLook for yourselves!Ô
           
          ÓI havenÒtà earned onà rhymes a singleà (ru)bleÔ.
          ÓA mermaid sits upon a branchÔ
          DonÒt trouble.
           I
          spoke to the policemen.ru
           
          ÓCharity.ru
          begins
          at homeÔ -
          said
          Maria
          Antoinette.
           
          I am a
          lonely ru.sail. 
          How
          much is Mercedes-Benz?
          Or should I say just ÅBenz?
           
          ÅinaÒs the girl of my
          dream.
          They
          admire NewtonÒs
          àbinomial
          theorem.
          What is
          on?
          TV and so on.
           
           
          To:à Judge Advocate General 
          (copy
          to : district attorney)
          ÓAs far
          back as in 1994 I invented the alias ÓRuÔ (ru) and had it published. I herewith request to
          make up for moral damages for plagiarism which, by my estimate, isà 1 rouble
          for eachà ruÔ.
           
          àà www.woznesenskij.ru
          
           
          YouÒll be the firstÅ
          àTo chat.
          DonÒt drink alone.
          ÓFatigued
          by spiritual thirstÔ
          What if
          you choke like Dovlatov did?
          Now,
          lads,
          Read it
          and envy me
          I happenà
          to be
          A citizen of the United Chats. www.woznesenskij.ru   |  
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          | Chat
          5  | You love me so,
          you love me, love me so!
          with injection of drug in your heart,
          taking off heaps of skirts you go
          to acquaint me with nudes, soft and hard.
           
          You are freedom of my subjugation
          YouÒreà in
          bilberry field again.
          Having rubbed in some pitchà embrocation
          you explained me the rules of the game.
           
          There is tremor over the burdocks
          and the fields,à no
          access to paint.
          And yourà
          breath disappearing, faded 
          you, my ru,à canÒtà be manually made. 
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 Andrey Voznesensky
 Prose    |    back to top 
       
 
       
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          | Chat
          6  |  
 
 Night. Chelyabinsk.
          Belts in hand, as a rule.
          For my friend
          àI will fightà to
          the bitter end!
          ÔItÒs my granny. Vocational school.
          And the
          buckle with letters ÓruÔ.
           
          Buckles whistle. Come on! Smite and beat it!
          Buckles sullied, to blemish the face.
          On the Day of the Holly Spirit!
          Buckles welded with led, just in case!
           
          Street fighting! Revenge and requital!
          (The front porch with shingle is
          littered!)
          ItÒs
          revenge for the beggarly life.
          WeÒre aà fist when
          we all get together
          All are friends, - like birds of a feather.
           
          Face in mud, - not in tart or custard.
          SomeoneÒs floating up there on high,
          winded round byà the
          buckle of bastard, 
          helicopter,à a lonely guy.
           
          Buckles carve stripes and streaks in the air 
          that are
          notà Ódouble uÔ , -à far from it.
          Well, itÒs me who snarls down there
          from
          beneath of somebodyÒs feetÅ
           
          Speech is bleeding lively and spirited
          with just one decent word which is ÓÅsitesÔ
          up above in celestial vicinity
          Motherland is saluting with lights
           
          Where are you off to, ru? 
          Wo!You!
 
 www.armed vehicle.ru   |  
 |   |  Chat 7    back to top 
       
 
       
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          |   | THE TALE OF THE GIRL DARN FISH 
           
          The woman spun woollen thread
          The man caught fish with a net. 
          No extraterrestrials in the NET.
          The countries for which they are bound
          are not
          to be found.
          One has to be fed
          to become
          red.  I like Nescafe with caviar, do you?
          Neither w, nor double u, nor ru. ThereÒs no ÓkittycatÔ for the
          kitty
          ItÒs a
          pity.
 The turkey cries in the yard:à boo!
          before execution: www.ru 
          Skuratov
          wearsà a funny bonNET
          
          No kiNETic
          skeletons in the cabiNET.
          WeÒll be caught in the NET by Kio.
          WeÒll be caught in the NET by Moskino.
          WeÒll be caught in the NET by Goskino.
          Chaff and daff in the NET? 
          There is nothing of what is on sale.
          HeÒs got
          nothing to eat. All is stale. 
           
          No mono ten
          No to ten www.turkey.ru
  
 NO INTERNET!-
          my
          neighbour said.
  
 ItÒs autumn. Monetization.
          The bat doesnÒt pay
          for
          illumination.
           
          New cabiNET thief imposes ÓNOÔ
          (In Russian itÒs ÓNETÔ)
          His forelock down on strings,
          Somebody sings.
          The plaNETary tears are shed
          by Bashmet.
           
          NO SHADOW
           
          Independence is verification
          for piety
          and exaltation.
          Bonaparte left a three flap cap.
          Had we only left jubilation
           
          of ÓTriumphÔ, thatà
          trick off the map,
          it would
          have been an endeavour!
          Uncommon?
          What if for ever?
           
          The artists are selfless there
          ignoring the dirty squabble,
          one doesnÒtàà guzzle
          and gobble,
          and
          starsà are willing to pair.
           
          Where nevertheless
          Bashmetà will impress
          the genius Menshikov
          who
          likesà mastication.
          Christ rules out retaliation.
          The woman, the artistÒsàà
          representation,
          willà convert InterNET
          à into
          àYES TOà NET!
 
  
 
 Leaves, in alt, setting out discomfort,
          will
          descend on the fields of rebirth.
          Sleeping there, smelling and truffled
          is
          forgiving andàà pardoning
          earthÅ
           
          Do not urge my half-chiselledà ru
          to
          mutiny! No, it wonÒt do!
           
          A hacker, BashmetÒs one
          timeà student, 
          grown up, mature and prudent,
          forces openà the
          code of the bank
          -just for fun, like playing a prank
          Talents strive for the good, they do:
          www.prison.ru
          www.asthma.ru
           
          I sign a letter to the Tsar. I do!
          (www.merchant.ru)àà
          Ôà 
          Ówe are losing a talentÔ Ö I say.
          Open the prison.ru, pray!
           
          - For whom is -
          àthe bell.com?
          what
          dreams does mosquitoà dream?
          viRUs.mosquito, ru 
          mosquito
          and comma ru
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      8  back to top 
       
 
       
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          |   | The blade ofà Gilette
          flashed.
          Hey boss, put your pistol away!
          The Ótough guyÔ violently slashed
          throwing
          out the guts on the tray.
           
          Like a bucked of purple pearls,
          or people in the underground
          the inside, allà
          steaming,à hurls
          the guts
          and bowelsà all out.
           
          Enjoy Russian style hara-kiri.
          The boss will be put to shame!
          àItÑs disembowel
          therapy, really.
          Guts on the table! ItÒs much the same.
          They wonÒt understand, either Russian
          or
          Yiddish. ThereÒs a way :
          pulsating miscarriage is dashing
          onto the
          table, eh?
          The soul percolates and leaches. 
          The dogà
          made a dash for the guts.
          The doctors will put in stitches.
          àwww.ru www.ru. Nuts!
           
          Holin,
          IÒm sure youÒll be able
          to
          remember -oh bosh ! - all this. 
          When throwing the guts on the table -
          the desk,
          that is.
           
          The female cops will scream,
          a veil beneath the mask:
          - whose chat is it? Whose teem?
          -ItÒsà
          Ru.
          àMy
          task.   |  
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          | Chat 9    | Lay sisters of
          order ofà hackers 
          à have
          sleepyà night-owl eyes.
          Young girlish lady in khaki
          assuming a zombie guise.
           
          The child of the network facilityÅ
          Some milk for
          the harmful work.
          You keep up
          your soulÒsàà viability
          by using non-standard word.
           
          At heart you
          are tough and molded.
          Heated girl, with math in
          your head.
          You can speak up straight from the
          shoulder,
          say what cannot be
          quietlyà said.à 
           
          Is it sexual
          terrorism? DullnessÅ
          Like a
          beautiful insect, the soul, 
          quite obscure
          and alien, struggles
          in the butterfly net, in a
          hole.
           
          Mini anger is
          stirring within you
          like it happens in every
          head.
          Just two
          uncommitted murders,
          and yesterdayÒs pillage
          instead.
           
          Zemphira?
          YouÒll laugh with derision?
          YouÒll jump down the roof? Play a trick?
          Unlettered and
          conscious decision
          like a mouse, to fingers
          will stick.
           
          And then you
          will feel so wretched
          that starting
          to playà Macintosh
          youÒll shout : I bury the
          hatchet.
          This net! Let it perish. By gosh!
           
          Ru
          I am through.
           
          LetÒs read the original. What?
          www.ru.
          Oh my God! àWeÒve forgotten
          the dot! And we havenÒt
          yet rhymed 
          the black
          mini-hole
          (What the
          goal-keeper sees 
          àin his dreams)
          What is goal? ItÒs delay, eh?
          Or your prank? Or your lark
          andà
          horseplay?
           
          Or the mouse
          starts the game
          by upsetting dots again.
          Turning it into dash? 
          Or trash?
          Beyond the fence some flowers grew.
          www.ru
           
          Up to now theyÒreà laughing
          like beasts.
          Ivan the
          Terrible is having a feast
          Kaligula is like Shura
          and these
          are as like as two pees.
 We shall yet get through, ru!   |  
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          | Chat
          10  |  
 www bound in faggot
          is a dangerous black
          light, you bet.
          Thorns and prickles turned upside down
          are defined as the Internet
          Just like Christmas-tree decorations
          these brand-newà www things
          are likeà
          stainless and spotlessàà
          relations
          on the forehead of human beings! 
          - For whom Ö
          does the bell.com?
          Welcome.
          Wheels a-missing,à barkingà like beagles,
          every hour, as if by convention,
          (ÓJede StundeÔ in
          German translation)
          the containers loaded with prickles
          will be bound for theà ÓruÔ destination.
           
          What are mosquitoÒsà dreams ?
          Common room? Comma.ru
 
 
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 OFF 
       
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          |   | Please, forgive me, you fellow traveller
          of present-day festive calvary.
          YouÒll get all you want and enough.
          I am off.
           
          IÒm Ophelia of dirty realities.
          The ophthalmic-crystal looks show.
          I am off the official formalities,
          Offshore.
          I have ruined your life entirely,
          to ashes, as stated above.
          I have been to Boldino
          timely,
          yes, I have.
           
          Generations and humans
          change
          Blok  and Blakeà have one woman.
          Strange?
           
          Moses leads generations
          again.
          IÒm off to my last destination.
          Forgive and forgetà if you can.
           
          Fallingà stars lashed againstà
          perforated colander. Cool!
          DonÒt be naive to believe in free download, fool.
           
          I am a stable woman 
          in our unstable times.
          high treason, betrayal of humans
          are my charms.
           
          The envious lying
          àof
          raiding line
          is aà
          thing that happens off line,
          off life.
           
          The attorneyÒsà morals
          have plundered me all.
          Upon my word!
          I run into
          you, heart and soul
          àof the
          World.
           
          IÒll break their rules of the game.
          Those Boyarsà again! With Pushkin I dashed to ÓYarÔ. Uh-Uh! IÒm ru   |  
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        | EPILOGUE
           
         
          |   | I love you, I love you
          I love you! I do!
          All talented scoundrels
          Are smashed by your genius, ru!
           
          Your hounds have torn up my calves,
          and now when I burn anew
          the following letters arouse:
          your name www.ru.
           
          Shareholders enjoyed celebrations,
          like OrwellÒs hogs taking pleasure in you
          avoiding Public Relations,
          yours.unpromoted.ru
           
          You have
          saved me and kissed. 
          Never
          better!
          Therefore
          when I pass away
          I will codeà the initial letter
          as www.ru.
           
          OK 
           
          Let them
          call for the whole world to hear
          When they fly in the heaven of blue. Littleà cranes ever flocking up here      W W
 W
 ru
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