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Kryz stormy twigs of trees bіlіє neruhome the sky. Read online "Lis i step

... the first giblets a little back
Pull Yogo: into the village, into the dark garden,
De lipi is so majestic, so tinist
I convoy so innocently plowed,
De round rockity over the water
The rowing was low,
It smells like hemp that sprinkle ...
Tudi, tudi, in the field,
De oxamite black earth,
De jito, do not throw kudi v ochim,
Strumuє quietly with soft words,
I fall important, zhovty promin
Through the clearing bіlikh round hmara;
It's good there. ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

(Let's eat, in the given bedroom.)

Chitach, you might have already picked up my notes; I’ll keep up with the calmness of yogo obytsyankoy, intertwined with handled urivi; Ale, I can’t help but say a few words about love.

Polyuvannya with a rushnitsa and a dog is beautiful in itself, für sich, as they said in a long time ago; Ale, mіzh іnshim, you were not born a miser: you still love nature; vi, otzhe, you can’t help but fuck up our brother ... Listen.

Do you know you, for example, how much of a malod you can see attachments until dawn? You go to the gank ... On the dark gray sky, blimayut the stars; Vologiy vіterets zrіdka nabіgє easy hvileyu; feel the streams, vague whispers of the night; wood makes a little noise, doused with tinny. The axis is to put the kilim on top, put the box with the samovar at the feet. Pidpryazhny sneak, fake and gracefully step over with your feet; a couple of only goose drove over and over the road. Behind the mud, in the garden, the watchman peacefully walks; the skin sound is mute to stand in the caught fire, stand and not pass. Wee axis; The horses were demolished at once, they caught a voice ... You go - go through the church, from the fire to the right, through rowing ... You are cold crumbs; you doze. Horses soundly slap their feet on the kalyuzh; the coachman will whistle. Ale the axis vid'yhali verst chotiri ... The edge of the sky red; in the birch trees prokdayayutsya, jackdaws fly over; Gorobtsi tsvirinkayut close to dark skirts. Svitlishak povitrya, the road is visible, the sky is clear, the cold is bright, the fields are green. At the huts, the worms are burning with fire, behind the gates there are sensitive voices. And mіzh tim dawn flares up; the axis is already golden zhayvoronki dzvinko sleep, adequate wind blowing - with a stream; the heart in you flutters, yak ptah. Svizho, fun, love! Far seen around. He is for a gaєm village; he gave іnsha, from the white church, he is a birch tree on the mountains; behind it there is a swamp, where you go ... Shvidshe, horses, live! Rissyu forward! ..about three versts, no more. Sleep shvidko pіdnіmaєatsya; the sky is clear ... The weather will be nice. The herd stretched from the village to you nazustrіch. We went up the mountain ... Yaky view! Richka goes up ten versts, darkly blue crisp fog; behind her are watery green onions; behind the bows canopy pagorbi; in the distance gulls hover over the swamp with a cry; kryz vologiy blisk, pouring out in the twilight, it is clear in the distance ... not something like a drop. Like a brisk chest, like a shvidko collapse of the joints, like a munch of all the people, we’re hooking up to their spring! ..

And lіtnіy, lime wound! Who, krіm mislivtsya, viprobuvav, yak wandering like wandering at dawn in the bushes? Green rice and frogs follow your nig on rosyan_y, beaten grass. If you miss the wet shrubbery - so and give you fresh girkoy polina, buckwheat honey and "gruel"; in the distance of the wall oak forestі shine і chervonіє on sotsі; still svizho, alas, see the closeness of specs. The head languidly swells away from the excess plowing. Chagarnik is not a kid ... Podekudi khiba far zhovtіє reaching zhito, vuzhny smuzhki chervonіє buckwheat. The axis was ripped out; A man will make his way in a crock, put zadalegіd kіn in tіn ... You clung to him, came out - the sonorous muddy mows the moon behind you. The dream is everything and everything. Shvidko the grass is drying. The axis has already become hot. To pass the year, friend ... The sky is dark at the edges; to plow with a prickly sinter to plow the bad luck.

- De b, brother, have you fed up here? - feed vi from the mower.

- And he, in the yar krinitsya.

Kryz thick bushes of the leaves, entangled with chilly grass, go down to the bottom of the yar. Exactly: under the very shave to hide dzherelo; oak bush greedily having thrown its knots over the water; large bulbs, goydayuchis, pidnimayut from the bottom, covered with dry, oxamite moss. You throw yourself on the ground, you see the smelling vogkistu; good to you, but against you the booths will be fired up and the dumb ones will be on the dream. Ale scho tse? Vіter rapt attack і rush; povitra zdrignuvsya stake: chi not chi chi? You go out from the ravine ... what for the leaden darkness to the sky? Is there a sinter cake? hmara chi puff up? .. Ale axis faintly flashed bliskavka ... E, that thunderstorm! Around the sun more brightly: it is possible to love. Ale the gloom grows: the front and the edge of the sleeves, nahilyaetsya crypts. The grass, the bushes, everything darkened with raptom ... Shvidshe! he, it is built to be seen in a blue barn ... shvidshe! You have finished, gone ... Yaky board? What are the bliskavki? Water dripped through the straw on the ground sino ... Ale the axis of the sun was already swallowing. The thunderstorm has passed; vi go. My God, I’m having fun all around, like it’s fresh and sweet, like it smells like mushrooms and mushrooms! ..

Ale axis is now evening. Zorya burst into flame and coped with pivneba. Sonce sіdaє. Something close, like especially insight, dumb curses; in the distance frog soft steam, warm to the viglyad; at once with dew a chervonia blisk is falling on the Galavin, which has recently been doused with streams of rare gold; from the trees, from the bushes, from the tall stacks of trees, they were beaten by the trees ... Sonce silo; the glare froze and tremble at the sunset in the open sea ... blue sky; okremі tіnі know, overwhelmed with water. It's time to go to the house, to the village, to the hut, de vie night. Throwing a towel over the shoulders, you go quickly, unimpressed on the second ... for twenty crocs it is not visible at all; dogs ice bilyut at temryavi. He's over the black bushes, the edge of the sky is vaguely clear ... Pozhezha? .. Ні, tse go off a month. And he is downstairs, right-handed, already blinking the vogniks of the village ... From nareshty and your hut. At the end of the day, bathe your glass, cover it with a white tablecloth, scorch a candle, supper ...

And then you want to lay down a big droshky and go to the lane for hazel grouses. Cheerfully wade through the university roads, between two walls of a high life. The ears are quietly hitting you on the face, the hairs chiplyayut by the legs of the quail, screaming around, kin to live with a line of rissyu. Axis i lis. Tin and quiet. Statni wasps are high above you; dovgі, hanging gilki birіz ice break up; canniy oak stand, yak boots, bilya beautifully lipa. You are walking in green, as it is in the middle of the road; great flies hang unruly in a golden twilight and raptom; midges fly in a stop, light up in tin, dark on sleep; birds sleep peacefully. The golden voice of a raspberry sounds like an innocent, balacucho joy: vin yde to the smell of convoys. Distant, distant, glibshe in the forest ... The forest is deaf ... The silence of the west is unchanged; that all around is so dreamy and quiet. Along the axis of the wind, and the noisy of the tops, the dumb falls. Kryz the borax with a leaf and grow a lot of grasses; mushrooms stand okremo with their droplets. Whisk the bilyak with a rapt, rush the dog with a quick bark, rush along ...

It’s a good autumn if woodcocks arrive! The stench is not trimmed in the wilderness itself: їkh demand shukati uzdovzh knots. Vіtru dumb, і dumb nі sound, nі lights, nі tіnі, nі mess, nі noise; in the myaky povіtrі razlitiy ostіnnіy smell, similar to the smell of wine; a thin fog stands far over the fields. Kryz bare, stormy twigs of trees peacefully bilin unruly the sky; pokudi hang on the linden trees the remains of the golden leaves. Syrah the earth is springy with your feet; high dry bilini not to collapse; the threads shine on the green grass. Spokiyno dikhaє chest, and on the soul there is a marvelous trepidation. Idesh uzdovzh knots, marvel at the dog, and at this hour of loving images, loving individuals, dead and alive, come to memory, long ago the enemy fell asleep unsupported; imagination to major і rush, yak ptah, і everything collapses so clearly і stand in front of the eyes. The heart is either rattling off and dumbfounded, daring to rush forward, then bezpovorotno drowning in spogads. All life is easy to grow and quick, yak suviy; We will pass by with all ours, with all our senses, forces, with all our souls, Volodya Lyudin. I didn’t care about anything around you - no sound, no wind, no noise ...

individuals, hairs chіplyayutsya by the legs, quail screaming around, kіn bіzhit linea rissyu. Axis i lis. Tin and quiet. Statni wasps are high above you; dovgі, hanging gilki birіz ice break up; canniy oak stand, yak boots, bilya beautifully lipa. You are walking in green, as it is in the middle of the road; great flies hang unruly in a golden twilight and raptom; midges fly in a stop, light up in tin, dark on sleep; birds fly peacefully. The golden voice of a raspberry sounds like an innocent, balacucho joy: vin yde to the smell of convoys. Distant, distant, glibshe in the forest ... The forest is deaf ... The silence of the west is unchanged; that all around is so dreamy and quiet. Along the axis of the wind, and the noisy of the tops, the dumb falls. Kryz the borax with a leaf and grow a lot of grasses; mushrooms stand okremo with their droplets. Whisk the bilyak with a rapt, the dog with a dingy bark, rush along ... And how can the forest itself be a good autumn, if the woodcock arrives! The stench is not trimmed in the wilderness itself: їkh demand shukati uzdovzh knots. Vіtru dumb, і dumb nі sound, nі lights, nі tіnі, nі mess, nі noise; in the myaky povіtrі razlitiy ostіnnіy smell, similar to the smell of wine; a thin fog stands far over the fields. Kryz bare, stormy twigs of trees peacefully bilin unruly the sky; podkudi on linden trees to hang the remains of golden leaves. Syrah the earth is springy with your feet; high dry bilini not to collapse; the threads shine on the green grass. Spokiyno dikhaє chest, and on the soul there is a marvelous trepidation. Idesh uzdovzh knots, marvel at the dog, and at this hour of loving images, loving individuals, dead and alive, come to memory, long ago the enemy fell asleep unsupported; imagination to major і rush, yak ptah, і everything collapses so clearly і stand in front of the eyes. The heart is either rattling off and dumbfounded, dashing forward, then irrevocably drowning in spogads. All life is easy to grow up і quickly yak suvіy; We will pass by with all ours, with all our senses, forces, with all our souls, Volodya Lyudin. I don't see anything around you - no sound is dumb, no wind, no noise ... But the bright, clear, chilly day is cold, cold frosty day, if birch, Kazkov tree is dumb, all gold, beautifully painted on the blackish sky, if the low dream is no longer a dream, ale to shine more than a richer one, a small osikova guy is all skittish, it’s dumb, it’s fun and easy to stand naked, it’s pampering at the bottom of the valleys, and the fresh weather is quietly happy to break up, and the wife started to look blue needles, roaring geese and jocks were picked up; in the distance, a knock, like willows, and, motley in the light, the pigeons are circling above her. .. Garnі also lіtnі foggy days, I want myslivtsі їх and not to love. In such days it is impossible to shoot: ptah, vipurhnuv at you s-pid nig, it is innocently known in the bluish image of an unruffled fog. Ale yak is quiet, yak invisibly quiet all around! Everything was thrown, and everything was moving. You go through the tree - you won't collapse: you won't get lost. Kryz thin steam, just pouring in the wine, chornin in front of you dovga smuha. You will accept її for a close fox; you come - there is a transformation at the temple garden, Polina on the border. Above you, all around you - the fog will perish ... Ale the axis of the wind will collapse slightly - the clap of the dark-blakit sky will vaguely appear the thinning edge, the nemov will be steaming, the golden gusts will wither away with the rapt, gush with a gush, - hit the fields and the axis has already been dragged on. Dovgo trivaє tsya struggle; It’s like an invisibly beautiful and clear old day, if the light shines through the triumph and the remains of the dark fog then wither and spread like tablecloths, then ring and stare into the glide, all the way along the sidelines ... We made our way about ten versts in paths - the axis, nareshty, is great. Outside of endless carts, around of old courtyards with a hissing samovar under a swoop, open gates and into a krynitsa, from one village to the other, across the field, green hemp trees, do you, ever. Magpies fly from the willow to Rokita; babi, with a rake in hand, wander into the field; a transitional cholovik in a well-worn nanke zhupan, with a sack on the shoulders, weave in a weary crochet; The carriage is huge, it is harnessed by a six of tall and broken horses, you need it. Wake up to wash the cushion of the cushion, and on the backs, on the bag, touching the motto, sit sideways as a footman in an overcoat, scuffing up to the brіv itself. The axis is turned into a small town with wooden crooked houses, endless parkans, merchants' deserted kam'yanny budulyas, old-time bridge over a glib yar ... Distant, distant! .. The steppe song has gone. Look at the fire - what a sight! Round, low pagorbi, rosemary and sowing to the top, spread with wide praises; overgrown bushes of yari v'yut among them; small islands are spread over the prodigious islands; from the village to the village by the high road; churches bilyut; mіzh wines іblskyє rychka, in chotiroh mіstsyah is overcrowded by rowing; far away in the field, in single file, to erase the buns; an old pansky booth with its services, orchardі the current leaned to a small rate. Ale dal, dal go see. Pagorbi is all dribbled and dribbled, the tree cann’t be seen. The axis of the won, nareshty, - bezmeless, neozora step! And on a winter day, he walks on high notes for hares, dyhati frosty, we welcome the twists, we blink our eyes towards the slushy glimpse of the sweet snow, the green color of the sky over the wormwood! .. And first spring days If everything shines around and collapses, the important steam of the melted snow still smells like the ground, on the paths, before we change the dream, happily sleep the zhayvoronki, and, with a cheerful noise and roar, start to wake up in a bright club ... ... Before speaking, I started talking about spring: the canopies are easily separated, the canopies and the happy ones are far away ... Farewell, reader; I want you to be happy. Lgov (3 cycle "Notes of the Mislivtsya") - Aw-ka in Lgov, - having said to me once already vidomiy to the readers of Urmolay, - they set up the jock in plenty. I want for a spirited miser of a wild pitching who does not represent anything especially addictive, but through the marriage of a wild game (on the right there was a spring on the cob: the woodcocks have not yet arrived, but have gone through the fields for the chickens in the right place.) Lgov is a great steppe village behind a long-standing one-domed kam'yan church and two mlins on the swampy riverside of Rosote. A small river of versts for five rounds of Lgov transforms into a wide rate, along the edges and in the middle of thickets with a dense outline, in Orlovsky - Mayer. At a certain rate, in the floats, it has quieted down between the outlines, the vivodilia and the trim are not lazy, the pumping of all young breeds: kryzhnevy, half-crook, Shilokhvist, chirkov, nirkiv and іn. Small games once flew over the water, and as a result of the construction, there was such a hogwash, the mischief-maker grabbing his hat with one hand and longingly saying: "Wow!" We went bulo from Єrmolaєm at a rate, ale, in a persistent way, at the very shore of a rolling, a bird is protected, do not trim; in a different way, if to see some kind of new steel and lack of information of teal, and given our construction and amusing life, then, by the way, from the suspicious Mayer, our dogs did not shoot in the camp: they could not be astonished at the most noble and only for nothing they used their expensive clothes about the state of the land. - Ні, - promovoving nareshti Єrmolay, - on the right not garazd: need by the way choven ... Go back to Lgov. We went. We didn’t get up to step on the crocodile, as we needed to go out because of the thick willow, the poor lyagava dog vibrated to finish it; bleed-cupid ** tuck the nashvidku into the diryavi chobot, with the scarlet hoot on the shoulder and the single-barreled rushnitsa by the shoulders. Leave our dogs, for the wicked, for the breeds of power, for the Chinese ceremonial, sniffing at the new specialty for them, yak, mabut, coward, squeezed the tail, threw a whiff, gravely inclined. Youmu on a viglyad bulo rock_v twenty five; Yogo dovge rusya hair, heavily leaked kvass, scrubbed with unkempt braids, - small eyes blinked happily, - all accusing, tied with black chorna, dumb because of a toothache, laughed at liquor. ______________ * horny (in French Gris de lin). ** blakitno-gray (in French Bleu d "amour). - Allow yourself to recommend, - feeling in a meek and insinuating voice, - I am a tough misler Volodymyr ... Feeling about your arrival and knowing that you wanted to take care of our headquarters, dare you, lest you be quick to propose your servants to you. Myslyvets Volodymyr said, “take no dates,” as a provincial young actor who borrowed the roles of the first cohants. I have also witnessed the history of this history. without constant busyness, grabbing only with manna from heaven. your. Mіzh іnshim, having given me a note, wіth wіthіnіdіvіd іnodі susіdnіh companions, and in the place to go on a visit, and in the preference of the city and with the people of the capital to know. She smiled in a maysternally and superstitiously intelligently: she was especially modest, a streamer smirk, she played on her lips, if I heard someone else's speeches. Winning you, guilty of weathering with you absolutely, but all the same, not taking into account the mighty goodness and how not to want you to give to the nobility, but maybe, with good luck, you can create your own idea. Єrmolay, as a lyudin isn’t about the illumination, and it’s not “slender” anymore, after the boo yogo “tikati”. Demand bulo bachiti, with a smile like Volodymyr saying to you: "Vi-z ..." - having powered yogo. - Do your teeth hurt? - Ні-с, - shutting down the wine, - there is a big toothy legacy of carelessness. I've got a buddy good lyudin-z , Ale zovsim not mislivets, yak tse buva-s. Axis, one day to say to me: "My dear friend, take me to the polish: I’m talking about knowing - what is the fun of the pole." I, intelligently, did not want to see the comrade; delivering yo, s his side, rushnitsya-s and taking yo-yo on a polyvannya-s. Axis-with mi yak slid populyu; nareshty lured us to see. I am from a tree; vіn, navpaki that, from his side, having thought of Wikidati as a rushnitsa article, moreover, it was in me. I asked him by the way, ale, because of the lack of knowledge of my own, I didn’t hear it, sir. I built a skip, and I started walking around and with the right finger of my right hand. We went to Lgov. I Volodymyr and Urmolay, they violated me, but I felt uncomfortable without a chauffeur. - At the Bitch є board *, - having respected Volodymyr, - so I don't know, kudi win yogo. Require zbigati to new. ______________ * Flat chaven, beaten with old baroque planks. (Approx. I.S. Turgenev.) - To whom? - having powered me. - And here Lyudin is alive, prizvisko to you Mote. Volodymyr drove to Bitch from Єrmolaєm. I said їm, I will check їkh at the church. Looking at the graves in the pantry, I rubbed the pochornіla chotirikutnu urn with the next letters: on one side in French letters: "Ci git Theophile Henri, viconte de Blangy" *; on іnshiy: "With a stone the soul of the French peddler, Count Blanges, was taken away with a stone; born in 1737, died in 1799, the whole life of the last century was 62"; on the third: "Peace be upon you", and on the fourth: ______________ * Here is Theophil Anri, Count of Blangy (French). Lie a French emigrant with a stone; The breed is noble mav vіn and talent, the squad and the seven who mourned the izbiyanna, Having left the Batkivshchyna, trampled upon by tyrants; Russian lands reached the banks, Zdobov at the headquarters of the guest house; Vchiv children, father of peace ... All-wise judging yogo here zapokoiv ... Arrived Urmolai, Volodymyr and people with a wondrous nickname The bitch interrupted my thoughts. Barefoot, obscenities and skuyovdzheniy A little bitch building on a viglyad from a courtyard, some sixty years old. - Є do you have choven? - having powered me. - Choven є, - he said in a deaf and beaten voice, - so much more nasty. - And what? - rozkleєni; yes from rivets riveted. - Great bida! - підхопив рмолай. - You can plug a shred of it. - Vіdomo, it is possible, - after confirming the Mote. - That ty hto? - Panskiy ribalka. - Yak is a chain of ribalka, but what do you have in such injustice? - So in our little ribs and ribs, there is no. - Riba does not love іrzhі swamp, - having respectfully respected my misly. “Well,” I said to Urmolay, “go get a shred of shreds and fit in for us, that sooner. Єrmolay pishov. - Alright, so, mabut, and to the bottom, let's go? - I said to Volodymyr. - God is merciful, - he said. - Everyone has a fault of allowance, but the rates are not too high. - So, the wine is not glib, - having respected the Mote, as if saying wondrously, dumb awake, - so at the bottom of the twang and the grass, and all the wine is covered with grass. Witness, є also і viboini *. ______________ * Gliboke misce, pit in the rate abo ricci. (Approx. I.S. Turgenev.) - Alright, the grass is so strong, - having respected Volodymyr, - you can't row like that. - Who is rowing on the planks? Treba phatisya. I will go with you; I have a є six, - otherwise I can use a shovel. - Shovel niyakovo, to the bottom in the іnshomu mіstі, mabut, not dіstanesh, - Volodymyr said. - It's true, very niyakovo. I went to the grave in the ochіkuvanni Єrmolai. Volodymyr vіdіyshov, for decency, trocha ubіk і also sіv. The mote has prodovzhuvav to stand on the place, hanging his head and sklavshi, behind the old little animal, hands behind his back. - Tell me, be a weasel, - after I, - how long have you been here with ribalka? - Somiy rik pishov, - responding to the win, a little startled. - And why did you do it? - Persh went as a coachman. - Why are you rocking the coachmen? - A new gentleman. - Yaka pani? - And she bought us. Don't bother the nobility: Olena Timofiyivna, tovsta taka ... not young. - Why did you think of zrobiti in ribalki? - And God knows yogo. They came to us from their patrimonies, from Tambov, they rang all the servants of the zibrati, and they came to us. I’m going to the handle, and there’s nothing: why don’t get angry ... And then I began to feed us in order: what did I do, what did I do when I got to bed? Dіyshla cherga to me; axis і pitaє: "Ty chomu buv?" Kazu: "Kucher". - "Coachman? Well, what kind of coachman, wondering what kind of coachman? Do not go to be a coachman, but if I have a ribalka and shave off my beard. Should I come to the table with a riba?" Quiet pir axis I am in ribalok and I am listed. "So my rates, marvel, revenge in order ..." - What do you know before bully? - And Sergiy Sergiyovich Pekhterev. At the recession, youmu have gone. We are not so happy as we are, all the rockies. I’m a coachman for a new axle, and I’m driving ... that’s not in a place - there’s a new bully, but in a village. - Why are all young people a coachman? - Yake is all a coachman! I had a meal at the coachman's in the presence of Sergiy Sergiyovich, and after the cook, I’m not like a cook, but in the village. - Who's got a cook? - A y kolishny gentleman, Opanas Nefedich, Sergiy Sergeichin has an uncle. Having bought Lgov, he bought Opanas Nefedich, and Sergiy Sergiyovich maetok was at the end of the road. - Who bought it from? - And Aunt Vasylivnya. - At what Aunt Vasylivnya? - And the axis, which died in the last rotsi, on Volkovim ... some pack on Karachev, in the girls ... Do not let the nobility do it? Before her, we were hoped to see Father, from Vasily Semyonovich. Vona, after all, we’ve already volodila ... twenty hands. - Well, are you a cook? “I’ll make it as if I’m a cook, or I’m drinking it in a coffee shop.” - At scho? - At the coffee shop. - Tse scho for posada taka? “I don’t know, father. At the buffet, it was formed and named Anton, not Kuzma. So the gentleman allowed to punish. - Your help is Kuzma? - Kuzma. - I spent the whole hour buying a coffee machine? - Ні, not the whole hour: bouv і Akhter. - Neither? - Yak, buv ... on keyatre grav. Our master has got a keyatr. - What roles have you borrowed? - Excuse me, sir? - How are you robbing the theater? - Don't you know? The axis is changing and dressing up; I’m so, I’m going to pick it up, I’m standing, or I’m sitting, I’m going to happen there. It seems: speak the axis, I speak. Once you imagined it ... They paid me peas for my skin ... Yak! - And then nіzh bov? - And then I know the cook nadіyshov. - Why did you know you were cheated as a cook? - And my brother's got it. - Well, what about your daddy's first gentleman? - And in the small villages I have changed over: I will make it to the Kozachkiv, I will make it to the Kozachkiv, I will use it as a faletor, a gardener, or else I will do it. - doyzhdzhachih? .. І went with the dogs? - Riding with the dogs, she drove in: with the horse, falling and kin zashib. An old pan we have a prestrog_y; it led me to go to Moscow, before shevtsya. - Yak in science? So you, tea, not drinking a child's drink? - So rock_v, so, I was over twenty. - Well, is there a science in twenty rocks? - It has become a bootie, nothing is possible, if the pan is punished. So, fortunately, he died soon, - they turned me into the village. - If there is a majesty in the kitchen? The little bitch has seen his skinny and zhovtenki denouncing and laughing. - That hіba tsyogo go in? .. cook babi! - Well, - I promulgated, - bachi, Kuzma, look at your wiki! So now you are ribalok robish, if you have no ribs? - And I, father, will not skarzhus. Thank God, they celebrated in the ribalki. And then the axis of the old, like me, Andriya Pupir - in the paper factory, in the scoop, the master ordered to put it. Shit, it’s for nothing, hlib є ... But the puppet was kindly encouraged: at a new two-year-old nephew to sit as an office clerk in the office: to learn more about the new lady, nagadati. Axis tі th guessing! .. And the pupir in my eyes bowed to my nephew in nizhki. - Do you have a family? Buv of favors? - Ні, father, not a bouv. Aunt Vasylivna is gone - the kingdom of the heavens! - she did not allow anyone to become friends. Save God! Buvalo, it’s like: "Well, I live like this, in girls, for the wasteland! Why do I need it?" - Why do you live now? I will pay off? - Yake, father, I'll pay! .. Harchi vidayutsya - and then glory to you, Lord! a lot of gratification. Prodovzh God of our capital! Єrmolay turning. - vporayusya choven, - having said vin suvoro. - Go for shostomu - ty! .. The mote fought for a shostoma. For the whole hour of my marriage with the old people, Mislivets Volodymyr, looking at him with a contemptuous smile. - A bad cholovik-z, - having promoted the wine, if that pishov, - absolutely unreasonable lyudin, man, sir, more than nothing. We can't call you a housewife, sir ... and boasted everything, sir ... Dee be an actor, sir, be kind to the judiciary yourself! Daremno allowed turbuvatisya, allowed him to razmovlyati, sir! In a quarter of a year, we were still sitting in the little bitches. (The dogs were thrown in the hut before the coachman Iєgudi was seen.) We were not even sprittly, ale mislivtsi, the people are not very bright. At the dull, back end, there is a mote and "pkhali"; we and Volodymyr were sitting on the chapel bar; Єrmolay having made himself up in front, at the very nose. Unimportant to shreds, the water soon came under our feet. Happily, the weather was quiet, and the rates were dumb asleep. We've been pouring it out every now and then. The old man forcibly vismikuvav from the viscous twain of his own rail, all entangled with green threads of watery grasses; Sutsilny, round leaves of marsh lilias may have obstructed the course of our chapel. Nareshty mi came to the outlines, and it was quiet. The hunks were noisy, "sighted" at the rate, they were overlaid by our unsupported appearance in their volodinnyas, they built amicably lunar next to them, and cheerfully butoy, like a lot of little birds were thrown over the water, about the water. They didn’t get away from all of them with a good fit: they were easily scolded; Those who were killed on the spot fell into such a thick mayer, but the picturesque eyes of Urmolai could not see them; All the same, our chavens were overwhelmingly reminiscent of game. Volodymyr, on the great vіhu rmolai, shoots out invincibly і fоr thе skin not far away wаs amazed, having looked around і blowing a towel, wondering, і, nareshti, vіcladіv us the reason why he missed. Єrmolay shoots, yak zavzhdi, it is possible, I - to finish nasty, yak zvychano. The mote glanced at us, ochima people, spent a lot of time at the panskoy service, and shouted: "Get out, get out of it, Utitsa! "- once at times we chukhav our back - not with our hands, but aiming at the collapse of our shoulders. The weather was miraculous: there were a lot of round blues, and they swooped over us, clearly vibrating at the water; We were going to turn into the village, as the raptom began to fill us with inappropriate goodness. We could have poured it for a long time, since the water was all collected in the board before us. On the right, a yak slid went, leaving Volodymyr without forgetting his gear. our board, - like a raptom, out of a strong ruku rmolai (a bird is smashed by the way and all the way to the edge), our old ship was sci. We screamed, altogether it was loud: through a mite we stood at the water up to their throats, chilled out with the dead body. Now, without regotu, I can’t change the guise of my comrades (it’s just because I didn’t see it as a Romanian); Alas, I am aware of that wickedness, it never occurred to me to get confused. Kozhen having trimmed his towel over our heads for us, і Mote, mabut, follow the beast to the panamas, having lifted the pole of his fire. The first one after destroying the Movchanka Єrmolay. - Thu ty, break through! - having mumbled wines, spitting into the water, - yak a chance! And all you, old devil! - dodav vіn with a heart, zvertayuchis up to the bitch. - What do you have for the choven? - Probachte, - a glimpse of the old days. - That and you are good, - prodovzhuvav my mislivets, turning his head right in front of Volodymyr, - why wonder? what not scooping up? ti, ti, ti ... Ale Volodymyr is already not up to the list: win tremtіv, yak leaf, tooth to tooth not hitting, і zvsіm without a shrug. Kudi has grown yo redness, yo feel like subtle decency and lordly goodness! The curses of the planks fluttered weakly under our feet ... In the midst of the ship's accident, the water gave us super-cold weather, and soon weathered it. If the first fear has passed, I looked around; all around, ten crocs away from us. grew outlines; in the distance, over the top, the coast is visible. "It's rotten!" - I thought. - How can we bootie? - having fed me Єrmolaya. - And the axis will wonder: why don't you stay here? - On, ti, trim the rushnytsya, - having said to Volodymyr. Volodymyr got used to it. - I go sischu brіd, - having prodvzhuv rmolai with goodwill, as at every rate is not unmistakably guilty of brіd, - having taken the pole from the Bitch and virus right along the shore, gently probing the bottom. - That ti vmієsh float? - having powered yogo. - Hi, I don’t know, - the voice overflowing from behind will outline. - Well, well, so deeply, - having respected the Mote, who and earlier was angry about the inferiority, but our grievance, and now, call me calm, only when I was healthy, I didn’t see

Chitachev, you might as well have picked up my notes; I’ll keep up with the calmness of yogo obytsyankoy, intertwined with handled urivi; Ale, being separated from him, I can’t help but say a few words about love.

the great goose of the flywheel has propelled and every now and then move across the road. Behind the mud, in the garden, the watchman peacefully walks; the skin sound is mute to stand in the caught fire, stand and not pass. Wee axis; The horses were demolished at once, they caught a voice ... You go - go through the church, from the fire to the right, through rowing ... You are cold crumbs; you doze. Horses soundly slap their feet on the kalyuzh; the coachman will whistle. Ale the axis vid'yhali verst chotiri ... The edge of the sky red; in the birch trees prokdayayutsya, jackdaws fly over; Gorobtsi tsvirinkayut close to dark skirts. Svitlishak povitrya, the road is visible, the sky is clear, the cold is bright, the fields are green. At the huts, the worms are burning with fire, behind the gates there are sensitive voices. And mіzh tim dawn flares up; the axis is already golden swathes stretched across the sky, wagering in the ravines; zhayvoronki dzvinko sleep, satisfactory winter blowing - and quietly flowing through the crimson sun. Light so and not like a stream; the heart in you flutters, yak ptah. Svizho, fun, love! Far seen around. He is for a gaєm village; he gave іnsha from the white church, he is a birch tree on the mountains; behind it there is a swamp, where you go ... Shvidshe, horses, live! Rissyu forward! ..about three versts, no more. Sleep shvidko pіdnіmaєatsya; the sky is clear ... The weather will be nice. The herd stretched from the village to you nazustrіch. We went up the mountain ... Yaky view! Richka goes up ten versts, darkly blue crisp fog; behind her are watery green onions; behind the bows canopy pagorbi; in the distance gulls hover over the swamp with a cry; kryz vologiy blisk, pouring out in the twilight, it is clear in the distance ... not something like a drop. Like a brisk chest, like a bad'oro limbs collapse, like a whole ludin's mint, hooking up with a spring! ..

And lіtnіy, lime wound! Who, krіm mislivtsya, viprobuvav, yak wandering like wandering at dawn in the bushes? Green rice and frogs follow your nig on rosyan_y, beaten grass. If you miss the wet bushes, you will be soaked in the warm smell of the night; the whole meal is reminiscent of fresh girkoy polina, honey of buckwheat and "porridge"; in the distance of the wall there is an oak forest and shine and chervonin on the sun; still svizho, altogether see

the proximity of the spec. The head languidly swells away from the excess plowing. Chagarnik is not a kid ... Podekudi khiba far zhovtіє reaching zhito, vuzhny smuzhki chervonіє buckwheat. The axis was ripped out; A man will make his way in a crock, put zadalegіd kіn in tіn ... You clung to him, came out - the sonorous muddy mows the moon behind you. The dream is everything and everything. Shvidko the grass is drying. The axis has already become hot. To pass the year, friend ... The sky is dark at the edges; to plow with a prickly sinter to plow the bad luck.

De b, brother, have you fed up here? - feed vi from the mower.

And he, in the hole, is crying.

Kryz thick bushes of the leaves, entangled with chilly grass, go down to the bottom of the yar. Exactly: under the very shave to hide dzherelo; oak bush greedily having thrown its knots over the water; large bulbs, goydayuchis, pidnimayut from the bottom, covered with dry, oxamite moss. You throw yourself on the ground, you get drunk, and you will turn a little bit more. Vi in tіnі, in a dichaєte fragrant vogkіstu; good to you, but against you the booths will be fired up and the dumb ones will be on the dream. Ale scho tse? Vіter rapt attack і rush; povitra zdrignuvsya stake: chi not chi chi? You go out from the ravine ... what for the leaden darkness to the sky? Is there a sinter cake? hmara chi puff up? .. Ale axis faintly flashed bliskavka ... E, that thunderstorm! Around the sun more brightly: it is possible to love. Ale the gloom grows: the front and the edge of the sleeves, nahilyaetsya crypts. The grass, the bushes, everything darkened with raptom ... Shvidshe! he, to be built, can be seen in a blue barn ... shvidshe! .. You have finished, gone ... Yaky board? What are the bliskavki? Water dripped through the straw on the ground sino ... Ale the axis of the sun was already swallowing. The thunderstorm has passed; vi go. My God, I’m having fun all around, like it’s fresh and sweet, like it smells like mushrooms and mushrooms! ..

streams of rare gold; from the trees, from the bushes, from the tall stacks of trees, they were beaten by the trees ... Sonce silo; the glare froze and tremble at the sunset in the open sea ... blue sky; okremі tіnі know, overwhelmed with water. It's time to go to the house, to the village, to the hut, de vie night. Throwing a towel over the shoulders, you go quickly, unimpressed on the second ... for twenty crocs it is not visible at all; dogs ice bilyut at temryavi. He's over the black bushes, the edge of the sky is vaguely clear ... Pozhezha? .. Ні, tse go off a month. And he is downstairs, right-handed, already blinking the vogniks of the village ... From nareshty and your hut. At the end of the day, bathe your glass, cover it with a white tablecloth, scorch a candle, supper ...

And then you want to lay down a big droshky and go to the lane for hazel grouses. Cheerfully wade through the university roads, between two walls of a high life. The ears are quietly hitting you in the face, the hairs are chilling by the legs, the quail is screaming all around, kin to run along the line. Axis i lis. Tin and quiet. Statnі wasps swan high above you; dovgі, hanging gilki birіz ice break up; canniy oak stand, yak boots, bilya beautifully lipa. You are walking in green, as it is in the middle of the road; great flies hang unruly in a golden twilight and raptom; midges fly in a stop, light up in tin, dark on sleep; birds sleep peacefully. The golden voice of a raspberry sounds like an innocent, balacucho-joy: vin yde to the smell of convoys. Distant, distant, glibshe in the forest ... The forest is deaf ... The silence of the west is unchanged; that all around is so dreamy and quiet. Along the axis of the wind, and the noisy of the tops, the dumb falls. Kryz the borax with a leaf and grow a lot of grasses; mushrooms stand okremo with their droplets. Whisk the bilyak with a rapt, rush the dog with a quick bark, rush along ...

fields. Kryz bare, stormy twigs of trees peacefully bilin unruly the sky; podkudi on linden trees to hang the remains of golden leaves. Syrah the earth is springy with your feet; high dry bilini not to collapse; the threads shine on the green grass. Spokiyno dikhaє chest, and on the soul there is a marvelous trepidation. Idesh uzdovzh knots, marvel at the dog, and at this hour of loving images, loving individuals, dead and alive, come to memory, long ago the enemy fell asleep unsupported; imagination to major і rush, yak ptah, і everything collapses so clearly і stand in front of the eyes. The heart is either rattling off and dumbfounded, dashing forward, then irrevocably drowning in spogads. All life is easy to grow and quick, yak suviy; We will pass by with all ours, with all our senses, forces, with all our souls, Volodya Lyudin. I didn’t have anything around you - not a song, not a wind, not a noise ...

And the autumn, clear, cold crumbs, cold frosty day, if the birch, the Kazkov tree is dumb, all the gold, beautifully painted on the blackish sky, if the low sun is no longer the same, but it is more bright than the richer, the little Osikov's guy is all on the German It’s fun and easy to stand naked, pamoroz is still white on the bottom of the valleys, and the fresh wind is quietly smashing, and my wife’s leaves fell asleep, - if, by chance, the blue needles rush radiantly, the rocking geese were thrown away; in the distance, mlyn knocks, like willows, and, motley in the light, the pigeons are circling brightly over her ...

Garni is also a little foggy days, if you want mischievous and not to love. In such days it is impossible to shoot: ptah, vipurhnuv at you s-pid nig, it is innocently known in the bluish image of an unruffled fog. Ale yak is quiet, yak invisibly quiet all around! Everything was thrown, and everything was moving. You go through the tree - you won't collapse: you won't get lost. Kryz thin steam, just pouring in the wine, chornin in front of you dovga smuha. You will accept її for a close fox; you come - there is a transformation at the temple garden, Polina on the border. Above you, all around you - the fog sits down ...

collapse - a clap of a blackish-blakit sky vaguely appear a thinning edge, a dumb steam, a golden zhovty break away with a rapt, start a stream, hit the fields, bump into a guy - and the axis knows everything is tightened. Dovgo trivaє tsya struggle; It’s like an invisibly beautiful and clear old day, if the light shines through the triumph and the remains of the dark fog either creep or spread like tablecloths, then ring and glimpse into a glimpse, just over the edge ...

Ale the axis was seen in the vid'yzhdzhayuchi field, in the step. We made our way about ten versts in paths - the axis, nareshty, is great. Outside of endless carts, around of old courtyards with a hissing samovar under a swoop, open gates and into a krynitsa, from one village to the other, across the field, green hemp trees, do you, ever. Magpies fly from the willow to Rokita; babi, with a rake in hand, wander into the field; a transitional cholovik in a well-worn nanke zhupan, with a sack on the shoulders, weave in a weary crochet; The carriage is huge, it is harnessed by a six of tall and broken horses, you need it. Wake up to wash the cushion of the cushion, and on the backs, on the bag, touching the motto, sit sideways as a footman in an overcoat, scuffing up to the brіv itself. The axis is turned into a small town with wooden crooked houses, endless parkans, merchants' deserted kam'yannyi budels, old-time bridge over a glib yar ... Distant, distant! .. The steppe song has gone. Look at the fire - what a sight! Round, low pagorbi, rosemary and sowing to the top, spread with wide praises; overgrown bushes of yari v'yut among them; small islands are spread over the prodigious islands; from the village to the village by the high road; churches bilyut; mіzh loznіkamі vibiskuє little river, in chotir'h mіstsyah overcrowded by rowing;

Exactly: under the very shave to hide dzherelo; oak bush

Eagerly swinging his paws over the water; large bulbs, goydayuchis, pidnimayut from the bottom, covered with dry, oxamite moss. in and

Throw yourself on the ground, you got drunk, and you may turn a little bit more. Vi in tіnі, in a dichaєte fragrant vogkіstu; good for you, but against you the booths will be fried

І nemov zhovtyut on sotsі. Ale scho tse? Vіter rapt attack і rush; povitra zdrignuvsya stake: chi not chi chi? You go out from the yar ...

Lead smog in the sky? Is there a sinter cake? hmara chi puff up? .. Ale axis faintly flashed bliskavka ... E, that thunderstorm! All around the place is bright

Dream: you can fall in love. Ale the gloom grows: the front and the edge of the sleeves, nahilyaetsya crypts. The grass, the bushes, everything darkened with rapt ...

Shvidshe! he, to be built, can be seen in a blue barn ... shvidshe! .. You have finished, gone ... Yaky board? What are the bliskavki? Get the fuck out of the straw

Water dripped on the s_no stockpile ... The sun's axis was swallowed again. The thunderstorm has passed; vi go. Oh my god, yak it’s fun, everything is around, yak good

Still fresh and wild, yak smells of suns and mushrooms! ..
Ale axis is now evening. Zorya burst into flame and coped with pivneba. Sonce sіdaє. Something close, like especially insight, dumb curses;

In the distance the frog is soft steam, warm to the viglyad; at once with dew a chervonia blisk is falling on the Galavin, which has recently been doused with streams of rare gold; from trees,

From the bushes, from the high stacks, they beat the last ones ... Sonce silo; the glare froze and tremble at the sunset in the open sea ... blue

sky; okremі tіnі know, overwhelmed with water. It's time to go to the house, to the village, to the hut, de vie night. Throwing the towel over your shoulders, you go quickly,

Uninvolved on the second ... for twenty crocs it is not visible at all; dogs ice bilyut at temryavi. He is above the black bushes, the edge

The sky is vaguely clear ... Pozhezha? .. Ні, tse go off a month. And he is downstairs, right-handed, already blinking the vogniks of the village ... From nareshty and your hut.

At the end of the day, bathe your glass, cover it with a white tablecloth, scorch a candle, supper ...
And then you want to lay down a big droshky and go to the lane for hazel grouses. Cheerfully wade through the university roads, between two walls of a high life. spike

Quietly hitting you on the face, hairs chiplyayutsya by the legs, quail screaming all around, kin bizit line rissyu. Axis i lis. Tin and quiet. statnі osiki

A high swan above you; dovgі, hanging gilki birіz ice break up; canniy oak stand, yak boots, bilya beautifully lipa. You are walking in the green,

Vkrita tіney dorіzhtsі; great flies hang unruly in a golden twilight and raptom; midges fly in a stop, light in tin,

Dark on the sun; birds fly peacefully. The golden voice of a raspberry sounds like an innocent, balacucho joy: vin yde to the smell of convoys. Far, far,

Glibshe in the fox ... The fox is deaf ... The silence of the west is unchanged; that all around is so dreamy and quiet. Ale axis vіter nabіg, and noisy top,

Nemov falling sick. Kryz the borax with a leaf and grow a lot of grasses; mushrooms stand okremo with their droplets. bilyak raptom

Whisk, rush the dog with a quick barking ...
It’s a good autumn if woodcocks arrive! The stench is not trimmed in the wilderness itself: їkh demand shukati uzdovzh knots. vіtru

Ні, і dumb nі sound, nі lights, nі tіnі, nі mess, nі noise; in the myaky povіtrі razlitiy ostіnnіy smell, similar to the smell of wine; thin fog cost

In the distance over the green fields. Kryz bare, stormy twigs of trees peacefully bilin unruly the sky; fall on linden trees to hang the rest of the gold