Allen Ginsberg все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

СУПЕРМАРКЕТ В КАЛИФОРНИИ
Сегодня вечером я думал о тебе, Уолт Уитмен, потому что шел осторожно, с головной болью, по улицам под деревьями, глядя на полную луну.

Голодный и измученный, в поисках образов, я зашел в неоновый фруктовый супермаркет, вспоминая все твои перечисления вещей!

Какие персики и какие полутона! Целые семьи вышли за покупками ночью! Мужья заполнили все проходы! Жены среди плодов авокадо, детишки у помидоров! — и ты, Гарсиа Лорка, что ты там делаешь у арбузов?

Я тебя видел, Уолт Уитмен, бездетный, старый одинокий грязнуля, перебирающий мясо в холодильнике, поглядывающий на мальчиков на посылках.

Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going

Father Death, Don't cry any more
Mama's there, underneath the floor
Brother Death, please mind the store

Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!
The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand
and asshole holy!
Everything is holy! everybody's holy! everywhere is
holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman's an
angel!

I

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

What sphinx of cement and aluminium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgement! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

When I lay down to sleep dream the Wishing Well
it rings

"Have you a new play for the brokendown theater?"
When I write in my notebook poem it rings
"Buster Keaton is under the brooklyn bridge on
Frankfurt and Pearl . . ."

Since we had changed

rogered spun worked

wept and pissed together

I wake up in the morning

Rexroth’s face reflecting human
tired bliss
White haired, wing browed
gas mustache,
flowers jet out of
his sad head,
listening to Edith Piaf street song
as she walks the universe

Said the Presidential skeleton
"I won't sign the bill"
Said the Speaker skeleton
"Yes you will"
Said the Representative skeleton
"I object!"
Said the Supreme Court skeleton
"Whaddya expect?"

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and
sat down under the huge shade of a Southern
Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the
box house hills and cry.
Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron
pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts
of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed,
surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of