Страсти по аркадию

Страсти по Аркадию. С сотрудничеством ИИ.)
Тема и вариации.

Аркадий: Что не хочу - то ворочу

Аркадий маслом портил кашу,
ходил с уставом в монастырь,
выкидывал слова из песни,
слезами горю помогал.

Он лишь зимой готовил сани,
телегу летом затевал,
на каравай чужой часами
рот что есть мочи разевал,

смотрел коням дарёным в зубы
и платья с нову не берёг,
честь смолоду уже загУбив,
сел на пенёк, съел пирожок.

И как полопал -
так потопал
и вынул рыбку из пруда,
совсем не приложив труда.))

2020

© Copyright

Arkady Botched Every Proverb

Arkady spoiled porridge with butter galore,
took rules to a convent he'd never been for,
threw words from old songs without reason or shame,
and helped grief with tears—always just the same.

He made sleighs in winter, not long before spring,
and started a wagon in summertime's swing.
At someone else's loaf he'd open his jaw,
staring for hours with greedy awe.

He'd inspect a gift horse's teeth with delight,
never cared for new clothes, not day nor night.
His honor he'd squander while still very young,
then sat on a stump where a pie he'd begun.

And once he had finished his pastry with pride,
he marched off at once to the riverside,
pulled out a fish from the pond, don't you see—
without the slightest bit of effort... indeed!

Arkadi mettait tout sens dessus dessous

Arkadi g;chait sa bouillie de beurre,
portait le r;glement chez les gens de pri;re,
arrachait les paroles des plus belles chansons,
et noyait les chagrins de ses propres sanglots.

Il pr;parait son tra;neau quand l'hiver ;tait l;,
et sa charrette en plein ;t;, sans ;clat.
Devant le pain d'autrui, bouche grande ouverte,
il r;vait des heures d'une miche offerte.

Aux chevaux qu'on lui donnait il comptait les dents,
ses habits neufs, jamais il n'en prenait grand soin.
Son honneur, tout jeune d;j;, il avait perdu,
puis sur une souche un chausson il a mordu.

Le chausson englouti, il reprit son chemin,
sortit un poisson de l';tang de sa main,
sans fournir le moindre effort, c'est merveilleux —
; sa fa;on, tout allait de travers, toujours un peu.

Arkady Mixed His Proverbs

Arkady cried o'er spilt milk twice,
then added fuel to frozen ice.
He put the cart before the horse,
and beat dead bushes, full of force.

He judged each book by just its cover,
while sleeping dogs he'd gladly hover.
He counted chickens before they hatched,
and let the cat out while it hatched.

He burned his bridges, crossed that stream,
then woke to find it all a dream.
He bit the hand that fed him bread,
and looked gift horses up instead.

He had his cake and ate it too,
made mountains out of drops of dew.
Then, whistling proudly, off he strode—
the shortest way the longest road.

Arkadi embrouillait tous les proverbes

Arkadi vendait la peau
de l'ours avant m;me son berceau.
Il mettait la charrue avant les b;ufs,
et cherchait midi ; quatorze heures.

Il cassait les ;ufs apr;s l'omelette,
tirait le diable par la brouette.
Il regardait les dents des chevaux donn;s,
et comptait les poules avant l';t;.

Il voulait le beurre et l'argent,
laissait filer le temps pourtant.
Il faisait d'une mouche un ;l;phant,
puis tournait autour du pot longtemps.

Enfin, fier comme un coq au matin,
il partit tout droit... par le plus long chemin.

Arkady Mangled Every Saying

(after a Russian comic poem)

Arkady let sleeping cats tell tales,
then nailed his colours to both rails.
He closed the stable, locked the horse,
and put the cart on its reverse.

He watched the pot until it boiled,
then cried o'er milk that wasn't spoiled.
He paved good wishes with bad intent
and never knew where the penny went.

He bit the bush around the hand
that fed two birds not worth the land.
He counted eggs before the hen,
then crossed the bridge and burned it... then.

He found the needle in the hay,
and lost the haystack anyway.
He called a spade a silver spoon,
and barked beneath the midday moon.

He had his cake, returned the slice,
and paid two cents to save a vice.
At every fork he took them both—
with equal confidence, forsooth.

When all was said, he said much more,
then shut the stable, barred the door.
And after all his glorious fuss,
he caught the wind...

...and missed the bus.

Arkadi prenait les proverbes au pied de travers

Arkadi mettait les b;ufs sur le toit,
puis la charrue derri;re ses doigts.
Il vendait l'ours avant la peau,
et cherchait l'aiguille dans le bateau.

Il tournait sept langues dans sa bouche
pour ;craser une seule mouche.
Il jetait l'argent par les fen;tres
afin d'ouvrir toutes les portes, peut-;tre.

Il voulait le beurre,
l'argent,
la cr;mi;re,
et le sourire de la fermi;re.

Il appelait un chat un lapin,
et courait deux li;vres d'un seul chemin.
Il faisait d'une mouche une montagne,
puis d'une montagne une campagne.

Il coupait la branche sous l'oiseau,
mettait la main dans son chapeau,
tirait les marrons du mauvais feu,
et soufflait sur les braises de la pluie.

Enfin, content de son exploit,
il partit tout droit...

par le chemin de c;t;.

he Singular Proceedings of Mr. Arkady

There lived a grave Gentleman, Arkady,
Whose maxims were never remarkably
In tune with the wisdom that sensible folk
Had bottled in proverb, in parable, joke.

He cried over milk that was yet in the pail,
Put the wind in his pocket, the cart on the sail;
He opened the stable to lock up the steed,
Then watered the weeds while he carefully weeded the seed.

He let sleeping dogs whistle tunes to the lark,
And beat round a horse till he barked at the park.
He counted his chickens before they were eggs,
Then stood on two stools with remarkably one pair of legs.

He looked a gift horse in the eye and the hoof,
Then mended the weather by fixing the roof.
He burned all his bridges before they were built,
And carefully spilt every drop of the milk that he'd spilt.

He carried the day in a bucket of rain,
And lost all his marbles while keeping them plain.
He made the best butter by crying for bread,
Then feathered a nest that had flown overhead.

He took every bull by the horns of a bee,
Found forests in acorns, yet missed every tree.
He called every spade an umbrella in June,
And serenely informed all the owls it was noon.

He'd have all his cake and politely decline
To eat it till after he'd bottled the wine.
At every crossroads he faithfully chose
Each road in succession—and none of those.

So, perfectly pleased with his perfectly planful,
Impeccably prudent, industriously manful,
He marched with a flourish, magnificently fussed—

...and arrived
exactly
where nobody was.

Mr. Arkady's Manual of Misconduct

There once was a Gentleman, Arkady, who
Considered all Proverbs suspiciously true—
Provided they first were inverted, reversed,
Or carefully muddled from last into first.

He watered the chimney and kindled the rain,
Put thunder in bottles and sunshine on grain;
He harnessed the breeze to a respectable cart,
Then fastened the horse to the practical part.

He let every sleeping dog whistle for tea,
While two birds in bushes flew under a tree.
He gathered his eggs from a basket of crows,
And planted umbrellas wherever wind grows.

He looked at a gift horse remarkably well,
Examining hoof, disposition, and smell;
Then purchased a stable for want of a hat,
And solemnly measured the width of a cat.

He burned all his bridges to strengthen the stream,
Then crossed it at leisure inside of a dream.
He made every mountain from half of a mouse,
Then quietly moved all the hills through his house.

He carried his cake in a thimble of cream,
A thoroughly practical culinary scheme;
He buttered his bread with a weather report,
And seasoned his soup with a parliamentary court.

He found every needle by losing the stack,
Then carefully put all the confusion back.
At every conclusion he thoughtfully said,
"The beginning comes best when the ending has fled."

Thus splendidly certain, serenely absurd,
He followed the tail of a migratory word,
And vanished at last with a courteous bow—

Exactly to Somewhere
that Nobody
knows.

 In het Nederlands:

Arkadi: Wat ik niet wil, doe ik juist.

Arkadi bedierf de pap met boter,
nam zijn reglement mee naar het klooster,
haalde de woorden uit een lied,
en huilde verdriet alleen maar dieper.

Hij maakte de slee pas midden in de winter,
en begon aan een kar in hartje zomer.
Naar andermans brood
gaapte hij urenlang
met zijn mond wijd open.

Een gegeven paard
keek hij recht in het gebit,
nieuwe kleren
spaarde hij allerminst.
Zijn eer had hij al vroeg verspeeld,
toen ging hij op een boomstronk zitten
en at een pasteitje.

En nauwelijks had hij het op,
of hij stapte kordaat weer verder
en haalde een vis uit de vijver—

zonder zich
ook maar de minste moeite
te getroosten.

30 июля 2026

Иллюстрация и переводы с русского ChatGpt