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Литвек - электронная библиотека >> Марат Нигматулин >> Социально-философская фантастика и др. >> Намывание островов (СИ) >> страница 72
class="book"> И мы освободимся от оков!





И громче музыка победу заиграет,



Когда народ свободу возвратит!



На небе солнце ярче засияет,



И славные знамена осветит!











































The Russian pilot.



Собственно, говоря честно, это и есть мое лучшее стихотворение на английском языке как по смыслу, так и по рифме и ритму, да и вообще. Изучая историю камикадзе и думая о возможности начала войны между НАТО и Россией, в частности же о возможности боевых действий на Черном море и над Черным морем, я сочинил за две недели такие стихи.





I go to war, I must to die,



I go from to my home away



And saw I us a grow the rye,



On fields at last in life my May.





I go beyond the destroy country,



On ruined buildings to the mar,



Because i must to die fo party,



My way too long to evil war.





And in this cold, but solar May,



I go to hell and scary front,



To South lie my the proud-way,



To Crimea gold,





And on this Russia great forpost,



I’am Russian pilot to become,



And on this beautiful the cost



I’am pilot-work to started learn.





And in my last in life the day,



I’am to the square on early go,



And major my to me the say:



«You must to die, what do you know?».





And happy I to die the ran,



I crush my life the bore and cozy,



I stay to my airplane,



And turn on I’am my motor noisy.





And when I go to blue the sky,



To deep brave world with head the snow,



I think about mother my,



And poor hearth her I’am know.





In minute last to ground the line



I saw to lover land – Crimea,



And seems i Russia all the mine,



And fly I’am to the war area.





All Russia luckily to sleep,



I must americans the kill,



And at the enemy big ship



I attack in this day to will.





My airplane to ship this fall,



And run americans us ants,



And in this minute yankee all



To death without grave with plants.





Run airplane trough noise and dark,



And not I’am scary there attack,



And fall my plane on cap the ark,



And nothing go I home to back.





When hurts my hearts, and hands, and leg,



In mind excitement I seems,



On Washington the Russian flag,



And made in really I’am this dreams.



























The Alcohol.



Другое мое стихотворение на английском, пропитанное философией и морализаторством насквозь, если оно из последнего не состоит, конечно.





You very love from France the wine,



When stay you on the life of line



You can’t the wine red drinking not,



Cold, with the ice, or very hot.



In mount hit you life of way,



You can’t the thinking in this day.



The wine you can to only drink,



In nowadays you can’t to think.



The wine you brain at now killed,



As at the animal you wild.



Your ugly bod and face of slave,



You can’t in future be the brave,



You only slave of snake the green,



Who in the dark you now seen.



And go to you fantastic squirrel



In scary run you under table.



Become you to the very sick,



And Diablo you in codex tick.



A very ugly your sin,



And you the sinner now been,



In life you started winter snow,



On your head stand the blow,



And spirit you go to the hell,



In hell you only will be burn,



You never will be now born,



In hell you will be only cry,



What alcohol you make to try?



And under wall, a very cold



And dirty lie you dead the bod.



In dark material you sleep,



Your spirit  dead in awful deep.



























God, save the president!



Эта моя версия гимна России, который, как мне считается, должен звучать на английском языке, на языке интернационала, дабы быть понятным всем народам мира.





(На музыку «God, save the queen!».)





God, save us president,



Padre of government.



Present him greatest health,



For the work most intense,





Victory in the wars,



Ruled on ground and on mars,



Righting us many years,



True and proud many slaves.





Right take us president,



He make huge us the land,



Stand us throne century,



Symbol of liberty.





Strong stand his throne,





(Далее музыка «Славься, славься...».)





And president us – all the people patron!



Your throne – is the best in the world of thrones,



You ruled of the us, of the all warriors!





Viva, viva, us president,



Viva you favorite us motherland,



And in every century us the strong



My great fatherland with the history long.





Viva, viva, us president,



Viva you favorite us motherland,



And in every century us the strong



My great fatherland with the history long.