ZX-News #19 10 декабря 1996

Verse - The poem "Dream."

                   Verse



  In fact, this short article to be placed in the "Letters from 
readers" or "Comedy" however, these sections today are busy, and

Therefore - here's a new section under the "lyrical" name 
"elements". 


            (C) Misha (Century)



       HELLO MNOGOUVAZHAEMYE ALL!


  I wandered somehow up the street just like that, without
business, and suddenly came up with a great
idea: "Do not go there" pokapat on brains
my good friend? ";)


  And, behold, I got myself up to the second floor and a last 
effort to call his door ...



  After some time the door deign
open, and seemed on the verge of smiling face of his brother. 
Asking permission enter, I, without thinking twice, strode into 
the room. 


  And that appears before my eyes:
purpose of travel, armed with a screwdriver
the sound of some terrible music, hard
picking your drive is exhausted, but at
This attempt did not notice me ...


  However, after some time, with a terribly surprised face 
(finally noticed;) stretched out his hand.



  By answering this form privtstviya the same,
I sprawled comfortably in his chair. Later
a few minutes I was offered a cup of
co-o-phe, and shove a folded bumazhentsiyu with the words: 
"Look, as before I father scoffs ... "



  Glotnuv some coffee, I began to seek out a
text familiar shaped as letters, and most interestingly, found!


  Imagine my surprise when I
folded all in one: it turned out, it
a little poem ... Imagine these things
work of art I greatly enjoyed it and I thought it would be 
unfair if all the other people also do not appreciate it ... 


  With all my heart I hope that I get from
author on the head for having allowed himself
unheard-of audacity: some changed verse
and added "a couple or two" of their lines ...


                * Dream *


    Sitting at the computer guy

    He wants to become a hacker,

    Hack famously program

    Toys for "SPECCY" write


    He sits deep into the night,

    Thinks its Duma,

    Until the clock on the wall

    Do not cry ku-ka-re-ku ...


    And in the morning waiting for his school,

    Strict teacher in glasses,

    With thick oak pointer

    In shaking hands with anger,


    And he wants this pointer,

    Poor kid to come,

    To know that the computer - no school

    School also must love.


    And if the kid receives,

    Deuce in his tattered diary

    Then he will not hacker

    And just a bad student.


  P.S. Learn, learn and learn, as bequeathed to us you know who 
... 


        __________________________