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Calling themselves intellectuals,
those writers and scientists!
Don't get so excited.
They don't believe in anything!
They've got the organ with which one
believes atrophied for lack of use.
Stop it. Come on.
Go to bed. Don't lie here...
It's too damp here for you...
You shouldn't lie here.
Take it off.
Oh God, what people...
Calm down, it's not their fault.
You ought to pity them,
not to be angry with them.
Haven't you seen them? They've
got empty eyes.
The only thing
they can think about
is how to sell themselves
not too cheap!
How to get as much as possible
for their every emotional movement!
They know they were "born for
a purpose", "called upon"!
After all, they live "only once"!
Can people like that
believe in anything?
Stop it, calm down.
Try to sleep, will you?
Go to sleep.
And nobody believes.
Not only those two. Nobody!
Who am I going to take there?
Oh, God...
And what's most awful...
is that no one needs it.
No one needs that room.
And all my efforts are just in vain.
Why do you say that?
Stop it.
I'm not going there with anybody
again.
Do you want me to go with you?
Where?
You think I've got nothing
to ask for?
No...
You can't go there.
Why not?
No, no.
What if it wouldn't work
with you, either?
You know, my mother was against it.
You've probably noticed already
that he's not of this world.
All our neighborhood laughed at him.
He was such a bungler,
he looked so pitiful.
My mother used to say:
"He's a stalker,
he's doomed,
he's an eternal prisoner!
Don't you know what kind of
children the stalkers have?"
And I... I didn't even argue with her.
I knew it all myself,
that he was doomed,
that he was an eternal prisoner,
and about the children.
Only what could I do?
I was sure
I would be happy with him.
Of course, I knew I'd have a lot of
sorrow, too.
But it's better to have
a bitter happiness than...
a gray, dull life.
Perhaps,
I thought it all up later.
But then he approached me and said:
"Come with me."
And I did,
and never regretted it.
Never.
We had a lot of sorrow,
a lot of fear, and a lot of shame.
But I never regretted it,
and I never envied anyone.
It's just our fate, our life,
that's how we are.
And if we haven't had our misfortunes,
we wouldn't have been better off.
It would have been worse.
Because in that case, there wouldn't
have been any happiness.
And there wouldn't have been
any hope.
I love your eyes, my darling friend,
Their play, so passionate and
bright'ning,
When a sudden stare up you send,
And like a heaven-blown lightning,
It'd take in all from end to end.
But there's more that I admire:
Your eyes when they're downcast
In bursts of love-inspired fire,
And through the eyelash goes fast
A somber, dull call of desire...
The End
Сталкер

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