Mandelstamskoye

How much consciousness of its righteous citizens of Russia!

After all, poetry is the consciousness of its rightness. Woe to the one who has lost this consciousness. He clearly lost his support point.

Osip Mandelstam. About the interlocutor

How much the consciousness of your rightness
Righteous citizens of Russia!
On this basis - do you believe? -
They are saints.

One is a resoner, unambiguous boor
With the habits of a liar and a sadist,
Doldon, indifferent to prayers and poems,
But he didn’t get drunk behind the wheel.

The other embodies the people
Deep, like a rat in the basement,
But he did not take bribes and does not take now
(Especially since they did not give).

Another protects the native country,
Becoming a mercenary due to money;
Another daily pounds his wife,
But still, she is not a traitor.

Against the background of such impeccable people
With their loud and formidable "we will take it!"
Any foreigner (Surtout* Jew)
He feels criminal.

From birth, they distort the features -
Simple, like porridge from half a half, -
Such a consciousness of its rightness,
That the angel would take the eye.

With the moral of the angel - a complete blockage
Against the background of the Russian miracle;
The apostle did not know such rightness,
One exception is Judah.

And the president himself (but nothing about him),
And all his clicks (not a word)
Confidently blood: for them the majority
(Just repeated it again).

In the world, such characters are full
By the grace of the generous god,
But where the bottom is rapidly approaching
There are somehow a lot of them.

And if they believe the Iskoni
Sinlessness of their own gray,
What verses do not write
With such a stubborn faith?

With such a right thing, which is weak
Have Jesus and Buddha, -
Homer, Verlaine, Baudelaire, Rimbo
Local people would overshadow.

And the president himself refueling there,
Would be so valuable for the lyrics,
What, having read it, Mandelstam
I would climb into a loop like Yesenin.

It seems to have to leave dreams
About new achievements without account,
And little consciousness of his rightness,
To do a decent something.

…………………………………… ..

Is it appropriate to the homeland of poor hul?
My forecast is blurred and inaccurate.
I dare not to say that she died
But somehow she is very not very good.

In the minds of hopelessness, in the ears not gu-gu,
Fruitlessly leaning bosom
And the wheel mills winter in the snow,
And the horn of the postman will hasten.

* Especially (FR.).