Hush, my little sleepy-head.
Mama’s gone — to Paris fled.
Ah-Ah-Ah, please don’t you weep.
There were reasons, go to sleep.
Over there beneath the couch
Crawls a sleek and shiny roach.
Where’s his wife? In Paris, too?
No, she isn’t; that’s not true.
Life here’s dull, with you and me.
So says Mama, I agree.
Mama’s new one’s rich and sleek.
He won’t bore her in a week.
Ah-Ah-Ah! The candles glow;
Window panes pile up with snow.
Sleep my funny little man!
All the world’s not worth a damn...
Once there lived a deer and doe...
Do not chew upon your toe.
Sleep my bunny, rest your head!
Mama’s gone — to Paris fled.
Are you mine or are you his?
Doesn’t matter which it is!
Do not look at me like that...
Once there lived a kitty cat...
But a tom bore her away.
Sleep, my son, it’s almost day.
She’ll come back before too long
To birth us another son...
(Для мужского голоса)
Мать уехала в Париж...
И не надо! Спи, мой чиж.
А–а–а! Молчи, мой сын,
Нет последствий без причин.
Черный, гладкий таракан
Важно лезет под ди–ван,
От него жена в Париж
Не сбежит, о нет! шалишь!
С нами скучно. Мать права.
Новый гладок, как Бова,
Новый гладок и богат,
С ним не скучно... Так–то, брат!
А–а–а! Огонь горит,
Добрый снег окно пушит.
Спи, мой кролик, а–а–а!
Все на свете трын–трава...
Жили–были два крота,
Вынь–ка ножку изо рта!
Спи, мой зайчик, спи, мой чиж,—
Мать уехала в Париж.
Чей ты? Мой или его?
Спи, мой мальчик, ничего!
Не смотри в мои глаза...
Жили козлик и коза...
Кот козу увез в Париж...
Спи, мой котик, спи, мой чиж!
Через... год... вернется... мать...
Сына нового рожать...
«Rude men are good in laughing, / Tender ones in grief are smart. / Only I do need nothing, / Nobody 's in my heart. Yet, for stray dogs, I feel a pity, / With myself just a bit concern. / My curved road through this city / Brought me straight in this tavern. Here, for acute spir...»
«Take it easy and do not swear! / Why my words in streets should I vend? / And the red head, which I still bear, / Grew so heavy, my neck is bent. And I never had love for city, / And with village I broke a bond. / I'll give `up all without a pity, / Grow a beard, become a...»
«If from the garden, this stupid maple / Spreading his branches would fly away! / Oh, if he could behave this way, / Oh, if he only would be able! / But he 's just thickening every week, / And all is leaving, but not leaving. / What is the point to be so weak / And stay whole...»
«You lost your Russia. 'Tis the end. / Did you oppose an element / Of bliss to one of evil and dark? / No? Then shut up! Missing the mark, / Your fate has sent you to a land / Cold, not affectionate, foreign, and / Your moans and sighs there in vain. / Russia 's not free. One...»