/Поглед.инфо/
To Haigashod Agasyan
The fable of the cricket and the ant is well known.
Well, I’m the cricket! Forget your past.
And the summer is over, the snow swept me away.
Where to go lonely winter?
Crickets are both poor and hungry today.
They expect a crumb to fall from a sponsor.
But who counts crickets as plums?
Wrestlers are in fashion again today.
And here I am – a musician,
a hired worker in a restaurant.
Piper to order and curled up in a pod,
me – former Paganini, me – first violin!
Oh, farewell, art, and farewell, maestro!
The concert is over and there is no orchestra!
On the empty strings – no notes.
They stick greasy bills on our foreheads.
Weep, poets, and wail, musicians!
Extinguish slowly, brilliant talents!
Even Beatrice despises Dante today.
He goes Dante andante, andante.
And here I am – a musician,
a hired worker in a restaurant.
Piper to order and curled up in a pod,
I – former Paganini, I – first violin.
1994
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