Текст песни Владимир Маяковский - Ко всему

everything
No.
This is not true .
No!
And you ?
My favorite ,
for what,
for what ?!

Ok -
I went ,
I gave flowers ,
Well, I stole from the box of silver spoons !

white ,
sshatalsya from the fifth floor .
Wind cheek burns .
Street club, shrieking and rust .
Lasciviously vzlazil horn to horn.

Exalted above the bustle of the capital stupor
strict -
ancient icons -
foreheads .
On your body - both on his deathbed -
heart
days
over.

Roughly murder does not stain hands you .
Do You
dropped only :
"In a soft bed
it,
fruit,
wine in the palm of the nightstand . "

Love !
Only in my
fevered
brain was you !
Silly comedy stop running!
See -
pluck toy armor
I .
Don Quixote is the greatest !

Remember:
under the burden of the cross
Christ
second
became tired .
74
The crowd shouted :
" Marala !
Maaarrraaala ! "

That's right !
each ,
who
about the rest prayed
oplyuy in his spring day!
Army ascetics doomed volunteers
from a man no mercy !

Enough!

now -
I swear by the power of my pagan ! -
let
any
beautiful ,
young -
the soul is not wasted ,
raped
and in the heart of mockery spit it !

Eye for an eye !

Seva revenge a thousand times zhni !
In each ear vvoy :
the whole earth -
convict
with a half- shaved head sun !

Eye for an eye !

kill ,
bury -
vyroyus !
On the stone knives obtochatsya teeth yet!
Dog zabyus barracks under the bunk !
I will
mad ,
bite into the beetle-crusher ,
smelling sweat and bazaar.

Night jump !
I
calling !
White bull rose above the ground ;
Muuuu !
In the yoke tortured neck - ulcer,
over the ulcer tornadoes flies.

Elk Auburn
in the wire
embroiled head branching
with bloodshot eyes .
Yes I Do!
Hunted animal over the world will overcome .

Do not leave the man !
Prayer at the mouth -
lay on the boards asking for and it is dirty .
I'll take
Namal
on the royal doors
on the face of God Razin.

The sun ! Rays do not throw !
Sokhna river to quench your thirst without giving him -
to thousands of my students were born
pipes with space anathema !

And when
at last,
for centuries tops becoming,
the last day they will -
black souls of the murderers and anarchists
Light a bloody vision !

Dawns .
Increasingly, yawning mouth of the sky .
night
drink a sip by sip it .
From the windows glow .
Heat flows from the windows .
From the windows of thick sun pours on the sleeping city .

A holy place is mine!
again
on the street dust
steps up lines commandments !
To the edge of a full heart
pour
in the confessional !

Coming people!
Who are you?
Here - I
all
pain and injury.
I will make you a fruit garden
my great soul .