Сироты. Павел Шавловский. Как-то так в этом мире...

Orphans. Pavel Shavlovsky.

Something like this happens in this world,
To find happiness soon,
People lose another happiness
Happiness in the faces of their babies.
So here ... Their father earn money
Surprised in a foreign country
A parental severity of concern
He laid it on his wife without difficulty.
And how often does it happen
in the world they’ll say: it’s destiny.
There he soon became carried away by another,
And the mother was left with the children alone.
However, a benefactor soon came
And invited her along
To a land far, rich, and children ...
The children of lots got another.
Three chicks, three living little boys
Three funny, funny tomboys,
In a poor hut dad and mom
They are now replaced by a sister.
There are many of their interests.
Girls of twelve
No matter how bitterly, there was no place
She is for childhood. Rising a little light
When people around filled up
Tenth dreams, she could not sleep,
Constant thoughts scared
How would they not have to starve.
True mom once taught
Oven cakes, she baked them
And in the morning carried to the bazaar.
Only a short time later
With bitter pain she realized
That can’t feed the family,
That she trades very little,
What they can’t live in four.
On the contrary, a little on the sidelines,
Under the high bazaar wall
Other girls traded
The girls traded themselves.
From what she saw
What first opened before her
Groaned quietly inside
They were twelve, like her.
And looked that thinking without knowing
Just a pity, she didn’t see,
What is her, watching for a long time,
Between them stood Satan.
Cruel spirit over a new sacrifice
Evil plans forged that hour
And serpentine insidious word
In the heart as if sent a thought:
Than to stand waiting for something
Would you engage in such a trade
It’s a really good job,
And for sure, enough is enough, more than ...
The girl stumbled a little,
And it was somehow dark in my eyes
A previously unknown alarm
I squeezed her pure soul.
With this mud for the first time
Shuddering into pitch darkness
Whispered, gasping slightly:
No, I'd rather die soon ...
Good idea, you know -
The demon kept telling her
Why are you suffering so much?
Indeed, why do you live?
You know you don’t have enough money
You long that hunger will come
And painful death and brothers
And she will certainly kill you.
Why die like that,
Take a handful of pills, and have a drink,
And misery breaks off instantly
Together with your unnecessary life ...
And some kind of childish flour
Twisted baby face
Like a sound from a heartbeat
He wounded her with deep pain.
Coming home like in a fog
The world seemed to fade around
Just the severity of the pills in your pocket,
Only hearts have a slightly inconsistent beat ...
Here is the hut, the one that gave
She once had comfort and warmth.
And the last thought pierced
What will become of her with the brothers?
Who will support them in this loss?
What will they get from life?
One thing remains, inevitably
To die all four at once.
And whisking away the current tears
Shutting the door quietly behind me
Divided into equal doses
A handful of pills with a trembling hand.
So the brothers returned from school
Like a trio of crazy sparrows
Flew in, broke in, not a word
Not understood due to the chaos of words:
The guests were funny today
They talked about God, about paradise,
And brochures were given colored.
On, this one for us, read it!
And glanced with a bewildered look
According to the color drawing of the leaflet -
Three crosses, people, warriors nearby,
But what words were there!
My heart is strangely as if beating
Tearing with painful longing
And inadvertently the letters were covered
An unexpected child’s tear.
Suddenly some kind of warm wave
The unfamiliar power of good
Draped and covered herself
And immediately she felt
Like a stranger standing nearby
But until sweet pain, dear
And over braids carelessly woven
Gently strokes with a pierced hand.
And powerlessly kneeling
Shaking in sobs of tears
Poured out all the longing and languor
What can not be expressed simply in words.
In her childhood years she learned
What children should not know.
But at twelve she understood
That not everyone will understand at twenty-five.
In a poor hut forgotten by the world
Three boys and a sister live.
Through the church, dressed, well-fed,
And they call God their father.
Every day their sister reads,
Every day they run to church.
Every day someone meets them there,
They love them there, that's how they live.
And the girl always repeats
Those words from the brochure are simple,
And inspires others and others
This truth is forever alive:
Even if the mother forgets
And leave his own child
Remember, your God sees and loves
Your Lord will not leave you!