A wild bison in a glossy cylinder —
You move your glassy eyes slowly
On the chimneys that catch the clouds with their invisible hands,
On the dirty pavement, drenched with sewage.
Athlete of the Universe in orange suit,
You hit the ground with your forged heel,
And she soared into the firing spaces
Divine sybarite with bronze body,
Watching, as in the emerald bowl of the Earth,
Suspended over the fires of ages,
O Commander of Cities that madly barking on the Sun,
When you walk proudly down the street,
Houses take a decisive pose
And turn their roofs to the right.
I'm a sissy on the down jacket centuries,
I offer you my sleek fingers,
And you shake it with a confident hand,
Because of this, blue bruises remain on the white skin.
I see oblivion in mathematics and history,
But I also see with my inspired eyes that soon, soon we will be gone like smoke.
And, stepping respectfully aside, I say:
"Greetings you, Mayakovsky!»