Текст песни Владимир Маяковский - Хорошее отношение к лошадям

They beat the hoof,
They sang like:
- Mushroom.
Steal.
Coffin.
Grub.-
Wind opita,
ice-shod
Street slid.
Horse on cereals
It crashed,
and immediately
for Gawker Gawker
Pants come Kuznetsk klёshit,
crowded,
Laughter rang and zazvyakal:
- Horse fallen!
- Dropping the horse! -
Laughed Kuznetsk.
Only one I
his voice not to interfere with his howling.
Approached
and I see
horse eye ...

Street capsized,
flows in its own ...

He came up and I see -
For kaplischey kaplischa
rolling in the face,
hiding in fur ...

And some general
bestial longing
splashing poured out of me
and broke into a rustling.
& quot; The horse is not necessary.
Horse, listen -
what do you think you are now ploshe?
My child,
we are all a little horse,
each of us in his own horse & quot ;.
Maybe,
- Old -
and I did not need a nanny,
maybe it's my idea seemed gone,
only
horse
rushed,
on its feet,
rzhanula
and I went.
Tail waved.
Red child.
It came a cheerful,
I began to stall.
And yet it seemed -
She foal
and worth living,
and work was worth it.