Tipsy Lady

You walked in a colorful sundress,

Without a bra and without socks,

Stoned, in a drunken haze,

Noskov was playing in your headphones.

Men were seeing you off,

Watching lustfully after you.

Students were gaping their maws,

A bald old man was spraying saliva.

You walked, carrying a bra in your hands,

Tights, maybe panties.

An exemplary family man, an accountant,

Crashed into a pole from your beauty.

The movement of your hips was delightful,

You floated — a long-legged brig.

You were storm-tossed and swaying,

But your brain had long since grown accustomed

To such loads, libations,

An autopilot saved you from troubles,

Indifferent to exclamations,

Imperturbably leading you forward.

I followed you for three blocks

From the local metro station.

You got lost in the alleys.

My insides burned unimaginably:

What a woman, what a woman!

Suddenly you tripped over a curb.

I carried you, straining,

You swore with uncensored curses.

We kissed at the entrance,

Forgetting shyness and tact.

We embraced in the elevator cabin.

On the stairs was the first act.

We live wonderfully and delightfully:

Love, a haze of intoxication.

I'll tell you, friends, with utmost honesty

Everyone should take an example from me.

Forget about libraries,

Where frumps in horn-rimmed glasses are,

Look for babes at discos,

Get acquainted in bars, taverns.

It's stupid to be ashamed of a drunk lady,

To be shy of an intoxicated woman,

Only with her will the sex be powerful,

The passion hurricane-like, unearthly.