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Мае вершы, змешчаныя ў кнізе “Карп у футры”

 

Мае вершы, змешчаныя ў кнізе “Карп у футры”

 

Кніга выдадзена ў выдавецтве “Беларусь”.

Якімовіч, А. М. Карп у футры : апавяданні, вершы, прыпеўкі / Аляксей Якімовіч. – Мінск : Беларусь, 2021. – 167 с.

 

Вершы на тэму кахання

 

                                                              Аляксей Якімовіч

Стаю на ўзлеску

 

                                                  Стаю на узлеску,

                                                  Любуюся калінаю.

                                                  А яна вітаецца,         

                                                  Махае мне галінаю.

                                                 

                                                  Цягну руку да цябе,

                                                  Мілая калінка.

                                                  Ягадай чырвонаю

                                                  Пачастуй, дзяўчынка.

 

                                                  -- Ягадай чырвонаю

                                                 Буду частаваці,

                                                 Каб гуляў на волі,

                                                 Не сядзеў у хаце.

 

                                                 Сарваў тваю ягадку,

                                                 Вабная калінка.

                                                 А яна з гаркотаю,

                                                 Зусім не малінка.

 

                                                 Пайду я дадому,

                                                 Годзе, нагуляўся.

                                                 Навошта, калінка,

                                                 З табой сустракаўся?

 

                                                  Стаю на узлеску,

                                                  Гляджу на каліну.

                                                  А яна вітаецца:

                                                  Рыпнула галіна.

 

                                                  Рыпнула. Слязіна

                                                  Мяне арасіла.

                                                  -- Прабач, прабач, хлопча,

                                                  Што не ацаніла.

       2020 год.

 

                                                                                               Аляксей Якімовіч

Не хавайся, зорачка

 

На небе месячык,

                                                         Зорачку шукае.

                                                         Дзе яна падзелася,

                                                         Думае, гадае.

 

                                                         -- Зорачка, зорачка,

                                                         Хутчэй засвяціся,

                                                         Не хавайся, зорачка,

                                                         Прыйдзі, адгукніся.

 

                                                         Успомні, ясна зорачка,

                                                         Як з табой гулялі.

                                                         Хмаркі кучаравыя

                                                         Шчасцейка жадалі.

 

                                                         Няма цяпер шчасцейка,

                                                         Сумна, адзінока.

                                                         Я плыву, узнімаюся

                                                         На гару высока.

 

                                                         З вочак маіх срэбных

                                                        Падаюць слязінкі.

                                                        Іх ловяць, трымаюць

                                                        Ручкамі травінкі.

 

                                                        Цябе не знайшоўшы,

                                                        Палячу туды!

                                                        Дзе прапала, зорачка?

                                                        Пазбаў ад нуды.

 

                                                         Зорачка, зорачка,

                                                         Хутчэй засвяціся.

                                                         Не хавайся, зорачка,

                                                         Перада мной з’явіся.

                                                                               2020 год.

 

                                                                              Аляксей Якімовіч

 Не будзі ты, мама…

 

Не будзі ты, мама,

                                                          Не будзі так рана.

                                                          Учора я гуляла

                                                          Са сваім Сцяпанам.

 

                                                          Ночка нас застала,

                                                          Дамоў не пусціла.

                                                          У чараўніцы-ночкі

                                                          Вялікая сіла.

 

                                                          Казачнымі ручкамі

                                                          Ночка абнімала,

                                                          Ласкавыя слоўцы

                                                          У вушкі мне шаптала.

 

                                                          Месячык наш човен

                                                          На вадзе люляў,

                                                          Разам з цуда-ночкай

                                                          Дамоў не пускаў.

 

                                                          Зорачкі зляталі

                                                          З неба, з вышыні.

                                                          І цяпер на вуснах

                                                          Іхнія агні.

 

                                                          А яшчэ, матулька,

                                                          Салоўка спяваў,

                                                          Цёхкаў, заліваўся,

                                                          На нас пазіраў.

 

                                                         Потым непрыкметна

                                                         Дзед-туман прыплыў,

                                                         Коўдраю сівою

                                                         Човен затуліў.

 

                                                         Не будзі ты, мама,

                                                         Не будзі так рана.

                                                         Моцна пакахала

                                                         Я свайго Сцяпана.

                                                                                 2020 год.

 

                                                                                                   Аляксей Якімовіч

На мурожным беражку…

 

На мурожным беражку

                                                     Полымя шугае.

                                                     Адзінокі вугалёк

                                                    Воддаль патухае.

 

                                                    Нахіліліся над ім

                                                    Гануля з Алесем.

                                                    Дзьмуць, укленчыўшы,

                                                    У зялёным лесе.

 

                                                    Вугалёк, вугалёк,

                                                    Хутчэй разгарайся.

                                                    Да Алеся і Ганулі,

                                                    Шчасце, набліжайся.

 

                                                    Усміхнуўшыся, Алесь

                                                    Ганне кажа ціха:

                                                    -- Няхай гэты вугалёк

                                                    Праганяе ліха.

 

                                                    Загарэліся агнём

                                                    У дзяўчыны шчочкі.

                                                    Апусціліся уніз

                                                    Шэранькія вочкі.

 

                                                    На бярозе у гушчары

                                                    Зязюля кукуе.

                                                    Пагубіла сваіх дзетак.

                                                    Хтосьці іх гадуе.

 

                                                   Паглядзела на Алеся

                                                   Ганначка-дзяўчына.

                                                   Ўжо не шчочкі, а душа

                                                   Гарыць як каліна.

 

                                                  Усміхаецца Алесь

                                                  Як зорку схапіўшы.

                                                  А ці будзе ён такі ж,

                                                  З Гануляй пажыўшы?

 

                                                  Можа, стане нецярпімы,

                                                  Можа, скупаваты.

                                                  Можа, сварку прынясе

                                                  У Ганначкіну хату?

 

                                                  Можа, руку ён падыме,

                                                  Выцяўшы па твары.

                                                  І рассыплюцца, як шкло,

                                                  Дзівосныя мары.

 

                                                  Вугалёк, вугалёк,

                                                  Хутчэй разгарайся.

                                                  Пайдзі, пайдзі, Ганна,

                                                  З матуляй парайся.

                                                                                      2020 год.

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Бяжыць вецярок…

 

Бяжыць вецярок,

                                                           Бяжыць, завывае.

                                                           А Алесь Хрысціну

                                                           На танец запрашае.

 

                                                           -- Можа, патанцуем

                                                           Мы з табой, Хрысцінка.

                                                           Губкі падціскае

                                                           Вабная дзяўчынка.

 

                                                           Броўкі свае хмурыць,

                                                           Вочкамі страляе.

                                                           Надакучыў ёй Алесік,

                                                           Іншага шукае.

 

                                                           Уздыхае хлопец,

                                                           На душы сумота.

                                                           Да яго падкраўся

                                                           Вораг – адзінота.

 

                                                           Сеў каля Хрысціны

                                                           На самы краёчак.

                                                           Вылецелі дзве стралы

                                                           З Хрысцініных вочак.

 

                                                           -- Не танцую я цяпер,

                                                           Бо няма настрою.

                                                           Не падымем мы яго

                                                           Удваіх з табою.

 

                                                           Уздыхнуў цяжэй Алесь,

                                                           Свет яму не мілы.

                                                           Праўду кажуць у народзе:

                                                           Адмова – як шыла.

 

                                                           Грыміць музыка на пляцы,

                                                           Дружна скачуць пары.

                                                           А у хлопца, як і ўчора,

                                                           Збянтэжанасць на твары.

 

                                                         Да Алеся вецярок

                                                         Прыбег, павучае:

                                                         -- Адыдзіся ад Хрысціны:

                                                         Цябе не кахае.

 

                                                        З ёю ты не пабудуеш

                                                        Залатое шчасце.

                                                        З табой будуць сябраваць

                                                        Нуда і напасці.

 

                                                        Грыміць музыка на пляцы,

                                                        Дружна скачуць пары.

                                                        Адганяе вецярок

                                                        Ад Алеся хмары.

                                                                                         2020 год.

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Стаіць вярба над вадою…

 

Стаіць вярба над вадою,

                                                    Нізка нахілілася.

                                                    А Ганна-дзяўчыначка

                                                    Моцна зажурылася.

 

                                                    Яе хлопец – сокал шэры –

                                                    Высока лятае,

                                                    Пра дзяўчыну Ганначку

                                                    Ужо не ўспамінае.

 

                                                   А калісьці вечарамі

                                                   Зорачкі збіралі,

                                                   Потым, смеючыся,

                                                   Небу пасылалі.

 

                                                  Хмаркі белакрылыя

                                                  Чародкай праплывалі,

                                                  Пра вербачку і сокала

                                                  Песню-гімн складалі.

 

                                                  -- Прыляці, мой сокал,

                                                  Побач апусціся

                                                  І скажы мне ціха:

                                                  «Ганна, не журыся!»

 

                                                  Стаіць вярба над вадою,

                                                  Нізка нахілілася.

                                                  А наша дзяўчыначка

                                                  Моцна зажурылася.

 

                                                  Залатая рыбанька

                                                  На Ганначку зірнула

                                                  І сказала гучна,

                                                  Каб яна пачула:

                                                 

                                                  -- Сокал твой каханы

                                                  Цяпер вельмі важны.

                                                  А яшчэ, ты ведай,

                                                  Ачарсцвеў, прадажны.

 

                                                 Абнімаў цябе ён,

                                                 Сыпаў цуда жарты,

                                                А цяпер, запомні,

                                                Тваёй пяты не варты.

 

                                               Туліцца да вербачкі

                                               Ганна маладая.

                                               Размаўляе з ёю

                                               Рыбка залатая.

                                                                 2020 год.

 

                                                                                                        Аляксей Якімовіч

Размова

 

-- У лесе, Марыська,

                                                        Чарніцы паспелі.

                                                        Завяду цябе туды

                                                        Да гэтай нядзелі.

 

                                                        -- У ягады чарніцы

                                                        Не пайду з табою.

                                                        Сон у мяне салодкі

                                                        Ранняю парою.

 

                                                        -- Ведаю, Марыська,

                                                        Дзе растуць грыбочкі.

                                                        У ляску яны стаяць,

                                                        Як малыя бочкі.

 

                                                         -- Не пайду з табою

                                                         Я шукаць грыбочкі.

                                                         Ад грыбочкаў, кажуць,

                                                         Растаўсцеюць шчочкі.

 

                                                         -- Ведаю, Марыська,

                                                         Дзе растуць малінкі.

                                                         Будзеш рваць іх па адной,

                                                         Не сагнуўшы спінкі.

 

                                                         -- Памаўчы, Міхасёк,

                                                         Болей так не гавары.

                                                         У малінах, як звяры,

                                                         Закусаюць камары.

 

                                                         -- Ведаю, Марыська,

                                                         Дзе растуць суніцы.

                                                         Пасядзіш, набраўшы іх,

                                                         На мяккай травіцы.

 

                                                         -- Ведаю цябе, Міхась:

                                                         Да хлусні ахвочы.

                                                         Не глядзіш на мяне,

                                                         Апускаеш вочы.

 

                                                         -- Ведаю, Марыська,

                                                         Дзе будуць вячоркі.

                                                         Пажартуем крыху там

                                                         І палічым зоркі.

 

                                                        -- Дзякуй табе, Міхасёк.

                                                        На вячоркі пойдзем.

                                                        Можа, там нам пашанцуе,

                                                        Можа, шчасце знойдзем.

 

                                                        Свецяцца на небе

                                                        Ліхтарыкі-зоркі.

                                                        Міхась і Марыся

                                                        Ідуць на вячоркі.

                                                                                     2020 год.

 

                                                                                                            Аляксей Якімовіч

На дварэ вятрыска…

 

На дварэ вятрыска,

                                                         Як каршун, лятае,

                                                         Мае вочкі шэрыя

                                                         Слязьмі запаўняе.

 

                                                         Мой мілы Антосік

                                                         Пакахаў другую:

                                                         Дзяўчыну-суседачку,

                                                         Зусім маладую.

 

                                                         Купіў ёй пярсцёначак

                                                         Тоўсты, залаценькі.

                                                         Рады, ўсё смяецца.

                                                         Здзяцінеў сівенькі.

 

                                                         Ўжо гасцей збірае.

                                                         За стол іх пасадзіць,

                                                         Грошы вытрасе з кішэні,

                                                         Пір гарой наладзіць.

 

                                                         У маім гняздзечку

                                                         Дзеткі засталіся.

                                                         Да мяне яны бягуць,

                                                         Просяць: «Усміхніся!»

 

                                                          Абнімаю дзетак

                                                          Гнуткімі рукамі,

                                                          Як галубка шызая

                                                          Сваімі крыламі.

 

                                                          Няхай дзьме вятрыска,

                                                          Няхай палятае.

                                                          Чужыя слядочкі

                                                          Ён пазасыпае.

 

                                                          Не хачу на іх глядзець,

                                                          Не хачу іх бачыць.

                                                          А суседцы маладой

                                                          Няхай Бог прабачыць.

                                                          --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --

                                                          Бяжыць вецер па дарозе,

                                                          Бяжыць, завывае.

                                                          А матуля ў хаце

                                                          Дзетак абнімае.

                                                                              2020 год.

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Узнімаюся

 

                                                     Імкліва узнімаюся,

                                                     Лячу, лячу, лячу…

                                                     Зорачку нябесную

                                                     Дастаць хачу.

 

                                                     А яна, свавольная,

                                                     Плыве, адплывае.

                                                     Гляджу і здаецца,

                                                     Што на нервах грае.

 

                                                     Грае, грае, грае…

                                                     Як іголкай, коле.

                                                     Няўжо не саўладаю

                                                     Я з гэтай сваволяй?

 

                                                      -- Зорачка нябесная,

                                                      Не ўцякай, пастой!

                                                      Шчасце пабудуем

                                                      Мы разам з табой.

 

                                                      -- Не, я не спынюся:

                                                      Месяц пакахала,

                                                      Вузялочкам хітрым

                                                      Лёс свой з ім звязала.

 

                                                      -- Адумайся, мілая!

                                                      Месяц табе здрадзіць.

                                                      Многа зорачак ў яго:

                                                      З усімі не паладзіць.

 

                                                       -- Я не думаю пра гэта,

                                                       Я жыву быццам у сне.

                                                       Макам тут не рассыпайся,

                                                       Не ляці, пакінь мяне!

 

                                                      -- Як магнітам, прыцягнула,

                                                      Ты угору узняла,

                                                      Калі вочкамі маргнула

                                                      Каля нашага сяла.

 

                                                      І цяпер моцна трымаеш,

                                                      Не дай упасці, пашкадуй!

                                                      Прыхіліся на хвілінку,

                                                      Пацалункам уратуй!

 

                                                      Прамаўчала, паплыла,

                                                      Не пашкадавала!

                                                      Душу тонкую маю

                                                      На шматкі парвала.

 

                                                      Да зямлі далёка,

                                                      Але я спушчуся.

                                                      Ў анёла крылы папрашу

                                                      І не разаб'юся.

                                                                                   2020 год.

                                                                                                      Аляксей Якімовіч

 

Прыляцеў камарык

 

Ў агародзе я палола.

                                                        Прыляцеў камарык.

                                                        Мяне, Любу маладую,

                                                        Укусіў за тварык.

 

                                                        Стала я на агародзе,

                                                        Слёзкі выціраю,

                                                        На камарыка гляджу,

                                                        Слоўцам дакараю.

 

                                                        Бачу: Яначка ідзе,

                                                        Пад нос напявае,

                                                        На мяне, на маладую

                                                        Ласа пазірае.

 

                                                        -- Ці ўрадзілі агурочкі? –

                                                        Распачаў размову.

                                                        Маўчу, слёзкі выціраю,

                                                         Бо страціла мову.

 

                                                         Здагадаўся Яначка,

                                                         Што бяда са мною.

                                                         У агародзік наш прыйшоў,

                                                         Жар прынёс з сабою.

 

                                                         -- Плачаш, мая Любачка,

                                                         Праліваеш слёзкі?

                                                         Хто так моцна уквяліў?

                                                         Ён не з нашай вёскі?

 

                                                         Уздыхнуўшы цяжка,

                                                         Яначку сказала:

                                                         -- Укусіў камарык,

                                                         Каб не працавала.

 

                                                         -- Баліць твая шчочка?

                                                         Дык я пацалую.

                                                         Ад напасці камарынай

                                                         Цябе уратую.

 

                                                         Туліць мяне Янка,

                                                         Моцна абнімае.

                                                         Стаю анямелая.

                                                         Ведаю: кахае.

 

                                                         -- Выходзь замуж за мяне,

                                                         Любка дарагая.

                                                         Пра камарыка забудзься,

                                                         Хай сабе лятае.

 

                                                         -- Згодна, выйду, Яначка.

                                                         Зробім па парадку:

                                                         Мы вяселлейка згуляем,

                                                         Апалоўшы градку.

 

                                                         Поле Янка градку,

                                                         Зелле вырывае.

                                                         А камарык галасісты

                                                         Дзівіцца, лятае.

 

                                                         Шчасце можа напаткаць

                                                         Нават ў агародзе.

                                                         Як было, вам расказала.

                                                         Адпачніце, годзе!

                                                                                      2020 год.

 

                                                                                                      Аляксей Якімовіч

Еду я на  санях…

 

Еду я на санях,

                                                            А мароз трашчыць.

                                                            Мой буланы конік

                                                            Весела бяжыць.

 

                                                            Еду я на санях,

                                                            Палазы рыпяць,

                                                            На высокіх елках

                                                            Сняжынкі зіхацяць.

 

                                                            Бяжыць мой буланы,

                                                            Яго не стрымаць.

                                                            З-пад капытаў падкаваных

                                                            Ледзяшы ляцяць.

 

                                                            Спяшаемся дадому,

                                                            Ў вёсачку малую.

                                                            Горад я пакінуў,

                                                            Цяпер тут зімую.

 

                                                            Коніка буланага

                                                            Цёплы хлеў чакае.

                                                            Сенца прынясу яму.

                                                            Хай адпачывае.

 

                                                           А мяне у хатцы

                                                           Сустрэне палавінка:

                                                           Жоначка мая,

                                                           Слаўная жанчынка.

 

                                                          У гарачай печы

                                                          Ласуначкі стаяць.

                                                          Ад душы каханая

                                                          Будзе частаваць.

 

                                                          Еду я на санях,

                                                          Вецер мне спявае.

                                                          Я вельмі шчаслівы.

                                                          Я жыву, кахаю.

                                                                             2020 год.

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Перад паходам

 

У бярозавым гаёчку

                                                        Зязюлька кукуе.

                                                        Хлопец коніка сядлае.

                                                        Ён яе не чуе.

 

                                                        У бярозавым гаёчку

                                                        Зязюлька лятае.

                                                        Зорка ясная – дзяўчынка –

                                                        Слёзкі выцірае.

 

                                                       -- Не сядлай каня, каханы,

                                                       На вайну не едзь.

                                                       Маё сэрцайка дзявоча

                                                       Кожны дзень будзе балець.

 

                                                       Прытуліў хлопец дзяўчыну.

                                                       На душы моцна шчыміць.

                                                       Супакоіць яе трэба

                                                       І ўвесь род абараніць.

 

                                                       -- Вораг блізка, наступае,

                                                       Паліць вёскі, гарады.

                                                       Ты не плач, мая каліна,

                                                       Уратую ад бяды.

 

                                                      Калі ж ў хату не вярнуся,

                                                      Горкіх слёз не пралівай.

                                                      Няхай лёс табе спрыяе,

                                                      Памагае вольны край.

 

                                                      Наша сонца, наша неба,

                                                      Наша песня, наша казка.

                                                      Не трымай хмурынку,

                                                      Усміхніся, кветка-краска.

 

                                                      На каня хлопец садзіцца,

                                                      Гладзіць дужаю рукой.

                                                      Можа, сёння, можа, заўтра

                                                      Распачнецца цяжкі бой.

 

                                                      -- Ой, нясі мяне, мой конь,

                                                      З сябрамі выдатнымі.

                                                      Пасячэм чужынцаў

                                                      Шаблямі булатнымі.

 

                                                      Капытамі стукаюць,

                                                      Бягуць уперад коні.

                                                      Узнімаецца угору

                                                      Сцяг нашай пагоні.

 

                                                      Сонейка патухла –

                                                      Стрэлы затрашчалі.

                                                      Хлопцы-беларусы

                                                      На зямлю упалі.

 

                                                     Як улітыя, жывыя.

                                                     Шаблямі махаюць.

                                                     Наша неба, наша сонца

                                                     Яны вызваляюць.

 

                                                     У бярозавым гаёчку

                                                   Зязюля кукуе.

                                                   Маці маладая

                                                   Дзетачак гадуе.

 

                                                   Капытамі стукаюць,

                                                   Бягуць уперад коні.

                                                   Узнімаецца угору

                                                   Сцяг нашай пагоні.

                                                                     2021 год.

 

                                                                                                               Аляксей Якімовіч

Цвіце сад…

 

Цвіце сад, цвіце сад,

                                                        Пчолка лятае.

                                                        Сэрца стукае ў грудзях:

                                                        Мілага чакае.

 

                                                        Не прыходзіць мілы,

                                                        Сёння запазніўся.

                                                        Можа, за парожак

                                                        Нагой зачапіўся?

 

                                                       Парог не пускае,

                                                       У хаце трымае.

                                                       Стаіць мілы ля дзвярэй,

                                                       Ў акно пазірае.

 

                                                       Цвіце сад, цвіце сад,

                                                       Пчолка лятае.

                                                       Сэрца такхкае ў грудзях,

                                                       І яно гадае.

 

                                                       Чаму мілы запазніўся?

                                                       Можа, уквяліла?

                                                       Можа, стала я яму

                                                       Ў гэты дзень няміла?

 

                                                       Пайду я дахаты,

                                                       Крадком вытру слёзы.

                                                       Ледзянеюць на душы

                                                       Лютыя марозы.

 

                                                      Цвіце сад, цвіце сад,

                                                      Пчолка лятае.

                                                      Па сцяжынцы бяжыць мілы

                                                      І здалёк гукае:

 

                                                      -- Прабач, прабач, мілая!

                                                      Не пускала маці.

                                                      Таму затрымаўся

                                                      Крышачку у хаце.

 

                                                      Прабач, мая пчолка,

                                                      Пражані хмурынку.

                                                      Бег і думаў пра цябе,

                                                     Пра сваю малінку.

 

                                                     Цвіце сад, цвіце сад

                                                     Кветкамі ружовымі.

                                                     Пацалую цябе, мілы,

                                                     Губкамі мядовымі.

                                                                           2021 год.

 

                                                                                                           Аляксей Якімовіч

Ля крыніцы

 

Ля крыніцы у кустах

                                                       Салавей спявае.

                                                       Мой Янусік даражэнькі

                                                       Мяне выклікае.

 

                                                       Цёпла-цёпла на душы

                                                       І настрой прыўзняты.

                                                       Стаю, слухаю яго

                                                       Каля сваёй хаты.

 

                                                       Да цябе не пабягу:

                                                       Яшчэ ранавата.

                                                       Пачакай, пачакай!..

                                                       Хутка прыйдзе свята.

 

                                                       А цяпер вадзіцы

                                                       Мне трэба прынесці.

                                                       І татулька згаладаўся,

                                                       Надта хоча есці.

 

                                                       Накармлю татульку,

                                                       Прыбяру у хаце.

                                                       Няхай крыху адпачне

                                                       Пасля працы маці.

 

                                                      Ля крыніцы у кустах

                                                      Салавей спявае.

                                                      Свае коскі залатыя

                                                      Сонца ўжо хавае.

 

                                                     Зазвінелі камары,

                                                     Хмаркамі лятаюць.

                                                     У кустах каля крынічкі

                                                     Янку закусаюць.

 

                                                   Пабягу, пабягу…

                                                   Трэба ратаваці.

                                                   Ўсё, здаецца, парабіла

                                                   Сёння ў сваёй хаце.

 

                                                   Ля крынічкі у кустах

                                                   Салавей спявае.

                                                   Міленькі Янусік

                                                   Стаіць і чакае.

 

                                                   Цёпла-цёпла на душы,

                                                   Гараць мае шчочкі.

                                                   Падабаюцца, Янусік,

                                                   Мне летнія ночкі.

                                                                              2021 год. 

 

                                                                                                   Аляксей Якімовіч

Падарунак неба

 

Прыйшла да нас восень.

                                                    Пустуе сенажаць.

                                                    На вішаньцы голай

                                                    Дажджыначкі вісяць.

 

                                                    Вісяць, не варухнуцца,

                                                    Крыштальныя усе.

                                                    Думаюць, чакаюць:

                                                    Гаспадар страсе.

 

                                                    Пацеркі з іх зробіць,

                                                    Каханай пакажа,

                                                    На шыю павесіць

                                                    І ласкава скажа:

 

                                                    -- Насі, дарагая,

                                                    Хай радуе ззянне.

                                                    Неба нам прыслала

                                                    Сваё прывітанне.

                                                                         2020  год.

 

                                                                                                     Аляксей Якімовіч

Паміж намі рэчка

 

Мы стаім на беразе,

                                                         Паміж намі рэчка.

                                                         Сонца косы апусціла.

                                                         Дагарае свечка.

 

                                                         Цячэ, цячэ рэчка,

                                                         Падмывае берагі.

                                                         Твае вусны шэпчуць:

                                                         -- Пакахала, дарагі!

 

                                                         Я саджуся ў чайку,

                                                         Да цябе плыву.

                                                         На лузе шырокім

                                                         Сядзем на траву.

 

                                                         На траву шаўковую,

                                                         Хай палашчыць нас.

                                                         Назаўжды запомнім

                                                         Гэты дзіўны час.

 

                                                        Рэчка не пускае,

                                                        Пеніцца, бурліць,

                                                        Ўніз хоча аднесці,

                                                        Ад мілай аддаліць.

 

                                                       Цячэ, цячэ рэчка,

                                                       Падмывае берагі.

                                                       Твае вусны шэпчуць:

                                                       -- Беражыся, дарагі!

 

                                                    Вяслом упіраюся

                                                    Ў глыбокае дно.

                                                    Яно сябар верны,

                                                    З ім мы заадно.

 

                                                    Ужо блізка бераг.

                                                    Каханая глядзіць.

                                                    Човен мой драўляны,

                                                    Як страла, ляціць.

 

                                                    Цячэ, цячэ рэчка,

                                                    Падмывае берагі.

                                                    Твае вусны вымаўляюць:

                                                    -- Мы кахаем, дарагі!

 

                                                    Пабяжым на луг шырокі,

                                                    Сядзем на траву.

                                                    Самую прыгожую

                                                    Кветачку сарву.

 

                                                    Яна не завяне,

                                                    З намі будзе жыць.

                                                    Ваду човен рассякае,

                                                    Імкліва ляціць.

 

                                                    Цячэ, цячэ рэчка,

                                                    Падмывае берагі.

                                                    Над вадой нясецца:

                                                    -- Хутчэй, дарагі!

                                                                             2020 год.

 

 

Вершы роздуму

                                                                                                   

                                                                                                     Аляксей Якімовіч

Як казка

 

Ўспамінаецца, як казка.

                                                     Быў я малады.

                                                     Мне вясёлку падарылі

                                                     З неба і вады.

                                                   

                                                    Белакрылыя анёлы

                                                    Цёплым летнім днём

                                                    Апаўдні яе прынеслі

                                                    Ў мой утульны дом.

 

                                                    І сказаў адзін з іх строга:

                                                    -- Беражы, трымай,

                                                    Ворагам зайздросным

                                                    Ў рукі не давай!

 

                                                    Як агонь, ззяла вясёлка,

                                                    Шлях мой асвятляла

                                                    І з анёламі святымі

                                                    Нітачкай злучала.

 

                                                    Па зямлі я крочыў смела,

                                                    Сілу адчуваў

                                                    І бар'еры-перашкоды

                                                    Ззаду пакідаў.

 

                                                   Ды аднойчы, шэрым ранкам,

                                                   Бяда напаткала:

                                                   Згінула мая вясёлка,

                                                   Як кропелька, прапала.

 

                                                   Не збярог, не утрымаў.

                                                   Можа, дзесь блукае,

                                                   Заблудзіўшыся, як у лесе.

                                                   Каб вывеў, чакае.

 

                                                   Дзень і ноч цяпер

                                                   Цуд гэты шукаю.

                                                   Часам, прыпыніўшыся,

                                                   Ў адчаі гукаю.

 

                                                   Беражы сваю вясёлку,

                                                   Мілы чалавек!

                                                   Не на дзень яна даецца,

                                                   А на цэлы век.

                                                                        2020 год.

                                                    

                                                                                                                Аляксей Якімовіч

Гаспадар і тавар

 

                                                       На ўвесь горад

                                                       Чуваць стук.

                                                       Гэта конь

                                                       Ступіў на брук.

                                                       Ён не проста так

                                                       Ідзе.

                                                       Гаспадар яго

                                                       Вядзе.

                                                       Пазірае

                                                       Гаспадар

                                                       На каня, на свой

                                                       Тавар.

                                                                   2020 год.

 

                                                                                                           Аляксей Якімовіч

Баравіна і нізіна

 

                                                        Як памешчык,

                                                        Баравіна

                                                        Паглядае

                                                        На нізіну.

                                                        Не сябруе

                                                        Баравіна

                                                        З нізкай,

                                                        Нізенькай

                                                        Нізінай.

                                                                   2020 год.

 

                                                                                             Аляксей Якімовіч

                                                                             Нам хочацца стаць мацнейшымі за стыхію.

Вецер хмары падганяе…

 

Вецер хмары падганяе,

                                                          Над зямлёй маўчком плывуць

                                                          І маланкі з перунамі

                                                          На сабе яны нясуць.

 

                                                          Дзесьці блісне бліскавіца,

                                                          Палыхне жоўтым агнём,

                                                          Нават самай цёмнай ноччу

                                                          Стане ўсё відаць, як днём.

 

                                                          Вецер цешыцца, гудзіць:

                                                          Ад яго цяпер залежыць,

                                                          Дзе свой цяжар хмара скіне,

                                                          Каб дажджом зямлю паліць.

 

                                                          Я бягу услед за ветрам…

                                                          -- Не ляці, пан, не ўцякай,

                                                          Прыпыніся на хвілінку,

                                                          Разам з хмарай пачакай!

 

                                                          Вусны крывяцца ад крыку,

                                                          Звон бясконцы у вушах.

                                                          Мабыць, ён знарок падкраўся,

                                                          Каб спыніць, нагнаўшы жах.

 

                                                          Не спыніў, не утрымаў.

                                                          Я бягу, бягу, бягу…

                                                          Даганю цябе, пан вецер,

                                                          Шлях адужаю, змагу.

 

                                                          Ты ляціш на луг шырокі,

                                                          Ужо хутка будзеш там.

                                                          За табою прыцягнуся

                                                          І руку табе падам.

 

                                                          Потым разам паімчымся,

                                                          Сілы злучым у адну.

                                                          Можа, убачым неўзабаве

                                                          Недзе ўдалечы вясну.

 

                                                          Нашу радасць, наша шчасце,

                                                          Нашу мару, весялосць.

                                                          -- Не бяжы так, чалавеча,

                                                          Не уводзь мяне у злосць.

 

                                                          Тут, на лузе на шырокім,

                                                          Кветкі дзіўныя растуць.

                                                          Твае ногі іх патопчуць,

                                                          Ім узняцца не дадуць.

 

                                                          Цябе многія баяцца:

                                                          І травінка, і пчала,

                                                          І бярозка, што нядаўна

                                                          На узлеску падрасла.

 

                                                          Я бягу, ветру не чую,

                                                          Для мяне бязмоўны ён.

                                                          Я бягу, дагнаць я мушу,

                                                          Інакш гэта будзе сон.

 

                                                          Я свае сляды пакіну

                                                          І на лузе, і ў ляску,

                                                          І на самым небяспечным,

                                                          Самым стромым беражку…

 

                                                          След у нас бывае розны.

                                                          Часам кажам: “Наслядзіў”.

                                                          Быццам у яму, з цёмнай хмары

                                                          Дождж у гэты след паліў.

 

                                                          Я бягу услед за ветрам,

                                                          Словы гінуць у грудзях.

                                                          Вецер цешыцца, рагоча

                                                          На няскошаных лугах.

                                                                                       2020 год

                                                                                          

                                                                                                            Аляксей Якімовіч

Кнігу даўнюю адкрыў

 

                                                           Кнігу даўнюю адкрыў.

                                                          -- Добры дзень! – там прачытаў.

                                                          І замоўк: тужліва стала.

                                                          Вусны моцна сцяў.

 

                                                          Калісьці сярод рэчак,

                                                          Палёў, лясоў, балот

                                                          Душу укладваў у мову

                                                          Мой доблесны народ.

 

                                                          -- Добры дзень, суседзі! --

                                                          Ласкава гучала,

                                                          Як сяброў найлепшых,

                                                          У госці запрашала.

 

                                                          Людзі сустракаліся,

                                                          Вялі свае размовы.

                                                          Яны не баяліся

                                                          Старажытнай мовы.

 

                                                          Мова іх яднала

                                                          Ля стала, на лузе.

                                                          “Добры дзень” гучала

                                                          Ва усёй акрузе.

 

                                                          Іншае ўжо чую.

                                                          -- Здравствуйте! – гучыць,

                                                          Быццам крык вароны,

                                                          Да мяне ляціць.

 

                                                          Кажуць, што вароны

                                                          Умеюць пераймаць.

                                                          І пра беларусаў

                                                          Так можна сказаць?

 

                                                          Гляджу, камянею,

                                                          Нападае жах.

                                                          Крык шэрай вароны

                                                          Застыў у вушах.

 

                                                          Кнігу даўнюю адкрыў,

                                                          Шчакой прытуліўся

                                                          І на вокладцы пажоўклай

                                                          З Бацькаўшчынай зліўся.

 

                                                          Для мяне яна сляза,

                                                          І я стаў слязою.

                                                          А як быць цяпер

                                                          З нашаю душою?

 

                                                          Душы прадаюцца,

                                                          Іх можна купіць,

                                                          Каб выкінуць на сметнік

                                                          Ці з чужой зляпіць?

 

                                                          Сонца ўжо заходзіць,

                                                          Моўкне, вечарэе.

                                                          Шэрая варона

                                                          На сметніку тлусцее.

 

                                                          Кнігу даўнюю адкрыў.

                                                          -- Добры дзень! – там прачытаў.

                                                          Плечы распраміў,

                                                          Галаву падняў.

                                                                                    2020 год

 

                                                                                                      Аляксей Якімовіч

А я лезу…

 

Бег, спяшаўся, уцякаў…

                                                    Ля гары зграя дагнала,

                                                    Шчыльна абкружыла,

                                                    З усіх бакоў абклала.

 

                                                    На мяне прагна глядзіць,

                                                    Цешыцца, танцуе.

                                                    Сёння пастаралася…

                                                    Скаліцца, святкуе.

 

                                                    Да гары грудзьмі тулюся.

                                                    Як высокі стог, яна.

                                                    Зямлю з хмарамі злучае

                                                    З каменя сцяна.

 

                                                    -- На калені апусціся,

                                                    Стань, як перад Богам, --

                                                    Заявіў важак клыкасты,

                                                    Паглядзеўшы строга.

 

                                                    Нехта ціха прашаптаў:

                                                    -- Адкінь роспач, страх.

                                                    Лезь на гэтую гару,

                                                    Пракладай свой шлях.

 

                                                    Я паслухаўся, палез:

                                                    Не прывык здавацца.

                                                    І гару можна адолець,

                                                    Калі пастарацца.

 

                                                    Гукнуў важак клыкасты:

                                                    -- Спусціся!.. Зайграю!

                                                    Пагуляеш з намі!..

                                                    Лезу, не зважаю.

 

                                                   За гарою – луг бязмежны.

                                                   Там растуць травінкі.

                                                   Мне уночы паднясуць

                                                   Свой нектар – расінкі.

 

                                                   -- Пачастуйся, чалавек! –

                                                   Ласкава папросяць.

                                                   Слёзы скоцяцца з вачэй,

                                                   Твар сухі абросяць.

 

                                                -- Не паслухаўся, здурнеў,

                                                Зараз уніз упадзе! –

                                                Хтосьці галасок падаў

                                                Ў варожым атрадзе.

 

                                                А я лезу, лезу,

                                                Стараюся хутчэй.

                                                На гары скалістай

                                                Цяпер як муравей.

 

                                                -- Свежы ветрык, прыляці, --

                                                Вусны вымаўляюць. --

                                                Слёзкі усталі на вачах,

                                                Святло засцілаюць.

 

                                               Пачуў ветрык, прыляцеў,

                                               Крыху дакрануўся

                                               І на скрыпачцы зайграў,

                                               Да мяне звярнуўся:

 

                                               -- Слёзак ты не выцірай,

                                               За камень трымайся.

                                               Ён цябе не падвядзе.

                                               Цярпі, прытуляйся.

 

                                               Сонца выйшла з-за гары,

                                               Як сябар, смяецца.

                                               Можа, гэта не на яве?

                                               Можа, так здаецца?

 

                                               -- Да вяршыні ужо далез! --

                                               Зграя прабубніла.

                                               Лезу, вусны сцяўшы,

                                               Падымае сіла.

 

                                              Падцягнуўся і ўзышоў

                                              На гару на тую

                                              Самую высокую,

                                              Самую крутую.

 

                                              Зграя вушы апусціла,

                                              Падцяла хвасты.

                                              Сонца прыплыло, шапнула:

                                              -- Цяпер важак ты!

                                                                               2020 год.

 

                                                                                                           Аляксей Якімовіч

Палюбіце Беларусь

 

Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                        Заўжды кроч уперад.

                                                        Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                        Не лезь ў вузкі нерат.

 

                                                       Быў ў нас Каліноўскі,

                                                       Быў у нас Касцюшка.

                                                       Славіць іх у песнях

                                                       Чароўная птушка.

 

                                                       Тая, што спявае

                                                       Ў лесе і ў полі

                                                       Аб зямельцы роднай

                                                       І аб добрай долі.

 

                                                      Палюбіце Беларусь,

                                                      Як Тадэвуш і Кастусь!

 

                                                     Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                     Будзь шчодрай, багатай.

                                                     Хай жыццё у Беларусі

                                                     Для ўсіх стане святам.

 

                                                     Беларусь, Беларусь –

                                                     Кляновы лісточак.

                                                     Ззяе сонейкам для нас

                                                     Кожны твой куточак.

 

                                                     Палюбіце Беларусь,

                                                     Як Тадэвуш і Кастусь!

 

                                                     Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                     З табой разам крочым.

                                                     Цябе не затуліць

                                                     Крыло цёмнай ночы.

 

                                                    Абаронім, адстаім

                                                    Ў гадзіну ліхую

                                                    Нашу маці Беларусь

                                                    Мілую, святую.

                           

                                                    Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                    Заўжды кроч уперад.

                                                    Беларусь, Беларусь,

                                                    Не лезь ў чужы нерат.

 

                                                    Палюбіце Беларусь,

                                                    Як Тадэвуш і Кастусь!

                                                                                  2020 год.

 

                                                                                                       Аляксей Якімовіч

Пра дзеда і залатую рыбку

 

Паслухайце, людзі!

                                                        Казкай зачарую.

                                                        Дзед злавіў у сетку

                                                        Рыбку залатую.

 

                                                        Глядзіць дзед на рыбку,

                                                        Пацірае рукі:

                                                        За хвіліну мільянерам

                                                        Стаў без лішняй мукі.

 

                                                        Рот адкрыла рыбка

                                                        І сказала ціха:

                                                        -- Адпусці, дзядуля,

                                                        Не рабі мне ліха.

 

                                                        Напалохаўся наш дзед:

                                                        Ногі задрыжалі

                                                        І на нейкае імгненне,

                                                        Як ватныя, сталі.

 

                                                        Не чакаў, што рыбка

                                                        Распачне размову.

                                                        Ён не ведаў, што яна

                                                        Вывучыла мову.

 

                                                        Зноў сказала рыбка,

                                                        Падціснуўшы губкі:

                                                        -- Не ўкушу цябе, дзядок:

                                                        Маленькія зубкі.

 

                                                        Адпусці, паслухай!

                                                        Яшчэ да змяркання

                                                        Выканаю, рыбачок,

                                                        Я тваё жаданне.

 

                                                        Адступіў ад дзеда страх,

                                                        Як чорт ад парога.

                                                        Свае бровы ён нахмурыў

                                                        І прамовіў строга:

                                                       

                                                        -- Маю бабу падлячы,

                                                        На дзве нагі кульгае,

                                                        Ноччу спаць не дае,

                                                        Вохкае, старая.

 

                                                        -- Адпусці, не падвяду,

                                                        Памагу бабулі.

                                                         Ножкі будуць у яе,

                                                         Як ў маладой казулі.

 

                                                         Адпусціў дзед рыбку

                                                         (Ёй паверыць змог).

                                                         Сетку узяў на плечы

                                                         І дамоў як мог.

 

                                                         Сустракае баба,

                                                         Нібы мак, прыбраная,

                                                         Як была калісьці:

                                                         Мілая, жаданая.

 

                                                         -- Ты куды сабралася?

                                                         Можа, на балет? –

                                                         Гучна запытаўся

                                                         У каханай дзед.

 

                                                         -- Пабягу на танцы,

                                                         Абрыдла у хаце.

                                                         Сяджу тут з табою,

                                                         Як хворая ў палаце.

 

                                                         Стаіць дзед у парозе,

                                                         Патыліцу чухае:

                                                         Ведае, што баба

                                                         Яго не паслухае.

                                                         --  --  --  --  --  --

                                                         Плавае у рэчцы

                                                         Рыбка залатая.

                                                         Хвосцікам бліскучым

                                                         Радасна махае.

                                                                                           2020 год.

 

                                                                                                Аляксей Якімовіч

Адзінокі дзед

                                                                                           

Я прыйду дадому,

                                                          Вочы затулю

                                                          І скажу паціху:

                                                          -- Беларусь люблю!

 

                                                          А мяне не любяць,

                                                          Прагнуць укусіць.

                                                          Тое,  з чым жыву тут,

                                                          Ім не забаліць.

 

                                                           На утульных крэслах

                                                           Падпанкі сядзяць.

                                                           Мову абпляваўшы,

                                                           У мой бок не глядзяць.

 

                                                           Я прыйду дадому

                                                           Скажу ціха-ціха:

                                                           -- Беларусь-радзіма,

                                                           Пазбаўся ад ліха.

 

                                                           Будзь багатай, вольнай,

                                                           Не сябруй з бядой.

                                                           Беларусь-радзіма,

                                                           Будзь сама сабой.

 

                                                           А мяне не любіць

                                                           Увесь асіны рой.

                                                           Зноў прыйдзецца заўтра

                                                           Мне ісці у бой.

 

                                                           Я прыйду дадому,

                                                          У акно зірну

                                                          І парву, напэўна,

                                                          На душы струну.

 

                                                           Тую, што напята,

                                                           Што надта шчыміць.

                                                           Маланкай імклівай

                                                           Яна паляціць

 

                                                           Далёка, за ўзгорак,

                                                           Прачарціўшы след.

                                                           Там у адзіноце

                                                           Дажывае дзед

 

                                                           У вёсачцы маленькай,

                                                           Кінутай людзьмі.

                                                           Пра яе не пішуць

                                                           Дзяржаўныя смі.

 

                                                           Некалі у вёсцы

                                                           Дзед жыў не адзін.

                                                           Былі лазня, школа,

                                                           Стаяў магазін.

 

                                                           Дзеці гаманілі,

                                                           Падбівалі мяч.

                                                           Іншы раз у хатку

                                                           Заглядаў урач.

 

                                                           Белую кашульку

                                                           Дзядок паднімаў.

                                                          Доктар яго слухаў,

                                                          Рэцэпт пакідаў.

 

                                                          Сюды ужо не ходзяць

                                                          І не прыязджаюць.

                                                          У збуцвелых хатках

                                                          Павучкі гуляюць.

 

                                                          А дзед не здаецца:

                                                          Хаткі сцеражэ.

                                                          А яшчэ ён мову

                                                          Сваю беражэ.

 

                                                           Прачнуўшыся раненька,

                                                           Вымаўляе дзед:

                                                           -- Словы у нас сіроткі!

                                                           Ліхі сёння свет.

 

                                                          Потым разам з сонцам

                                                          Крочыць да крынічкі.

                                                          Забыўся старэнькі,

                                                          Што прапала знічкай.

 

                                                          Сталёвымі зубамі

                                                          Трактарыст падгрыз.

                                                          Уцякла крынічка,

                                                          Пабегла уніз.

 

                                                          Ідзе па сцяжынцы

                                                          Знясілены дзед,

                                                          Пакінуўшы у хаце

                                                          Бабулін партрэт.

                                                          Бур’яны навокал!

                                                          Затуляюць свет.

 

                                                          Свет жыве, віруе,

                                                          Агнём зіхаціць

                                                          І, як конь стаенны,

                                                          Некуды ляціць.

 

                                                          -- Дзяцелінка, днець,

                                                          Дудачка, драбок, --

                                                          З дзедам-беларусам

                                                          Мовіць вецярок.

 

                                                          Прыляцеў з-за ўзгорка:

                                                          Дзеда падтрымаць.

                                                          Дзядок прыпыніўся

                                                          І давай казаць:

 

                                                          -- Ветрык, мае слоўцы

                                                          Пану аднясі…

                                                           Не захоча слухаць?

                                                           Ну дык не прасі!..

 

                                                            Каля беднай хаткі

                                                            Ветрык прабягае.

                                                            Дзед стары, нямоглы

                                                            Беларусь трымае.

 

                                                           Трымай, не здавайся!

                                                           Ты пакінеш след.

                                                           Ты не адзінокі,

                                                           Адзінокі дзед.

 

                                                           Я прыйду дадому,

                                                           Вочы затулю

                                                           І скажу паціху:

                                                           -- Дзед, цябе люблю!

                                                                                                            2020 год.

 

                                                                                                      Аляксей Якімовіч

Іду па шкле…

 

                                                          Шкло, шкло…

                                                          Зло, зло…

                                                          Шмат шкла!..

                                                          Безліч зла!..

 

                                                          Іду па шкле,

                                                          Павольна ступаю.

                                                          Шкло хрумсціць:

                                                          -- Боль прычыняю!..

 

                                                         Коле, баліць,

                                                         Але я трываю.

                                                        Шкло не пашкадуе:

                                                        Даўно гэта знаю.

 

                                                        Здаецца, прайшоў,

                                                        Шкла не стала.

                                                       Вусны вымаўляюць:

                                                       -- Нарэшце прапала!

 

                                                      Крыху прайду,

                                                      Усміхнуся лету

                                                      І сяду як пан

                                                      На камень нагрэты.

 

                                                     Вялікі, пляскаты,

                                                     Ён воддаль ляжыць,

                                                     Зярністымі вачыма

                                                     На мяне глядзіць.

 

                                                     Як дзіва прыроды,

                                                     Як вялікі дар,

                                                     На убраным лузе

                                                     Быццам гаспадар.

 

                                                     Хочацца нагнуцца

                                                     І яго абняць.

                                                     Ён, напэўна, будзе

                                                     Чыйсьці дом трымаць.

 

                                                     Дужы, утрымае,

                                                     Не дасць яму ўпасці.

                                                     Вось такое будзе

                                                     Ягонае шчасце.

 

                                                     Да каменя ступаю…

                                                     Што ж гэта блішчыць?..

                                                     Пад параненыя ногі,

                                                     Як джала, шкло ляціць.

 

                                                     Рука загінастая

                                                     Асколачкі шпурляе.

                                                     Каб упаў, каб здаўся,

                                                     Ужо даўно чакае.

 

                                                     Кулакі сціскаю,

                                                     Ступаю, не баюся…

                                                     Сіла яшчэ ёсць.

                                                     Не ўпаду, не звалюся.

 

                                                     На травінках тонкіх

                                                     Чырвоныя расінкі –

                                                     Кропелькі мае –

                                                     Гарачыя крывінкі.

                                                      -- -- -- -- --

                                                     -- Не кідайце, рукі,

                                                     Вострыя асколкі, --

                                                     Сцішыліся, просяць

                                                     Кволенькія зёлкі.

                                                                          2020 год.

 

                                                                                                                   Аляксей Якімовіч

Споведзь пакутніка

 

Кінуў чорт насенне

                                                         Гадкае ў душу

                                                         І цяпер, як кару,

                                                         Я яго нашу.

 

                                                         Па лесвіцы службовай

                                                         Лезу ўсё вышэй,

                                                         Вогненныя іскры

                                                         Сыплюцца з вачэй.

 

                                                         Людзі разбягаюцца:

                                                         Ведаюць, што спаляць

                                                         Альбо, як той шэршань,

                                                         Яд пусцяць, уджаляць.

 

                                                         Сяджу і ўспамінаю.

                                                         Дзянькі бягуць, мігцяць,

                                                         Бы цені зацугляныя.

                                                         Не утрымаць, не ўзяць.

                                                

                                                        З мовы насмяяўся,

                                                        Неўзлюбіў яе.

                                                        Чужая мне мова,

                                                        Словы не мае.

 

                                                         З каханай дзяўчынай

                                                         Доўга не гуляў.

                                                         Калі рот адкрыла,

                                                         Ў плечы – і прагнаў.

 

                                                        Сябру, з якім бегаў

                                                        Ў дзяцінстве басанож,

                                                        Калі ён адвярнуўся,

                                                        Ўсадзіў у спіну нож.

 

                                                      Каб пыл пусціць у вочы,

                                                      Заходзіў у гулкі храм.

                                                      Злосць не адпускала,

                                                      Задушвала і там.

 

                                                     Не сплю цяпер начамі,

                                                     Нуда, як звер, грызе,

                                                     І тыя, што цярпелі,

                                                     Прыходзяць па чарзе.

 

                                                     Мне нешта ў вушы кажуць,

                                                     А я не чую іх.

                                                     Іншы раз здаецца,

                                                     Што гэты свет заціх.

 

                                                     Маўчыць, як сон-трава,

                                                     Глядзіць з дакорам.

                                                     Нуда цісне на грудзі,

                                                     Хоць і страціў сорам.

 

                                                    Гадка на душы.

                                                    Буяе пустазелле.

                                                    Завылі за акном.

                                                    Там чортава вяселле.

                                                                           2020 год.

 

                                                                                                        Аляксей Якімовіч

Як і бы

 

                                                                 Спатканне – як зорка,

                                                                 Жыццё – бы дарога,

                                                                 Радасць – як вясёлка,

                                                                 Трывога – бы знямога.

 

                                                                 Маўчанне – як цярпенне,

                                                                 П’янства – бы вар’яцтва,

                                                                 Абыякавасць – як злачынства,

                                                                 Арыгінальнасць – бы дзівацтва.

 

                                                                 Нявернасць – як атрута,

                                                                 Павучанне – бы насенне,

                                                                 Бездапаможнасць – як адчай,

                                                                 Сквапнасць – бы знішчэнне.

 

                                                                 Жаданне – як спакуса,

                                                                 Вернасць – бы трываласць,

                                                                 Старасць – як вынік,

                                                                 Паўналецце – бы сталасць.

 

                                                                 Здароўе – як каштоўнасць,

                                                                 Каханне – бы надзея,

                                                                 Павага – як заслуга,

                                                                 Сварка – бы завея.

 

                                                                 Міласэрнасць – як спагада,

                                                                 Злосць – бы узрушэнне,

                                                                 Задума – як пачатак,

                                                                 Клопат – бы імкненне.

 

                                                                 Сіла – як магчымасць,

                                                                 Разгубленасць – бы слабасць,

                                                                 Здзяйсненне – як крылы,

                                                                 Нараджэнне – бы радасць.

 

                                                                 Усмешка – як праменьчык,

                                                                 Сляза – бы праяўленне,

                                                                 Праўду – як шыла,

                                                                 Сварлівасць – бы няўменне.

 

                                                                 Ідзі па дарозе,

                                                                 Упэўнена ступай,

                                                                 Ды помні: учынкі –

                                                                 Пекла або рай.

                                                                                        2020 год.

 

                                                                                                                Аляксей Якімовіч

Рукі

 

Чыясьці рука кінула

                                                        Каменем ў яснае сонца.

                                                        Прабіўшы акенца, упаў

                                                        Ён на самае донца.

 

                                                        Туды, дзе душа, дзе

                                                        Надзеі, мары, каханне,

                                                        Дзе нават зімою

                                                        Цяпло, неўміручае ззяне.

 

                                                        Уголас заплакала сонца,

                                                        Прамені-слязінкі упалі

                                                        На луг, на балота, на поле,

                                                        На хуткую рэчку, дзе хвалі.

 

                                                        Ад слёзак горкіх, гарачых

                                                       Яны, як у катле, закіпелі

                                                       І, жоўты пясок паказаўшы,

                                                       Туманам ўгару паляцелі.

 

                                                       Пасохла трава на лугах,

                                                       На балотах, і кветкі прапалі.

                                                       Пчолам сказаўшы «прабачце»,

                                                       Пялёсткі свае апусцілі, завялі.

 

                                                       Колас на полі жытнёвым

                                                       Змарнеў, не наліўся,

                                                       Да цвёрдай, каменнай

                                                       Зямлі сіратой апусціўся.

 

                                                       Стаю я на горцы высокай,

                                                       Угару, як бядак, пазіраю.

                                                       Хмары плывуць нада мною.

                                                       Стаю, вусны сцяўшы, чакаю.

 

                                                       Магчыма, адна з іх мяне

                                                       Зразумее:  падніме да сонца.

                                                       Руку працягнуўшы, той камень

                                                       Дастану з чырвонага донца.

 

                                                      Няхай напаўняецца рэчка,

                                                      Няхай кроплі ўпадуць на поле,

                                                      Няхай і лугі, і балоты

                                                     Сустрэнуць квяцістую долю.

                                                                                        2020 год.

 

                                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Навальніца

 

Да нас хмарка прыляцела,

                                                   Над зямлёй нізка прысела.

                                                   І адразу ж нечакана

                                                   Вельмі моцна прагрымела.

 

                                                   Як жывое, наваколле

                                                   Пахіснулася, ўздрыгнула,

                                                   І маланка па вачах,

                                                   Нібы шабляй, секанула.

 

                                                  -- Не палохай, Гром,

                                                 Не пускай маланкі.

                                                 Пачастую я цябе:

                                                 Дам табе смятанкі.

 

                                                Вусны просяць у адчаі,

                                                Супакойваюць мяне.

                                                А дажджынкі ручайкамі

                                                Паўзуць хутка па акне.

 

                                                Хвошча дождж, як бізунамі,

                                               Па зямлі і па страсе.

                                               Вецер рвецца і скуголіць,

                                               Дрэвы тоўстыя трасе.

 

                                               Дзядзька Гром побач рагоча,

                                               З трэскам смех яго ляціць.

                                               А чырвоная маланка,

                                               Відаць, хоча асляпіць.

 

                                               -- Не палохай, калі ласка,

                                               Супакойся, дзядзька Гром, --

                                               Вусны просяць, не сціхаюць.

                                               Пацямнела за акном.

 

                                              Не паслухаў дужы Гром.

                                              Мабыць, кепска папрасіў.

                                              З новай сілай прагрымела.

                                              Яшчэ большы дождж паліў.

                                                                                 2020 год.

 

                                                                                                            Аляксей Якімовіч

Маё

 

                                                          Ідзём, зубы сцяўшы,

                                                          Па гразкай раллі.

                                                          Імкнемся дабрацца

                                                          Да новай зямлі.

 

                                                          Ідзём днём і ноччу,

                                                          Вясной і зімой.

                                                          Праз змрок і туманы

                                                          Няспешнай хадой.

                                                          ---  ---  ---  ---  ---  ---  ---

                                                          Новая зямля --

                                                          Мой мілы край --

                                                          Ты  для мяне,

                                                          Як для святога рай.

 

                                                          Тут жаваранка песня

                                                          Ўецца і звініць,

                                                          Тут хмарка белакрылая,

                                                          Бы казачка, ляціць.

 

                                                          Тут каласы на полі

                                                          Стаяць сцяною

                                                          Важкія, налітыя,

                                                         З аздобай залатою.

 

                                                          Мне іншы раз здаецца,

                                                          Што гэта продкі на нас

                                                          Глядзяць з глыбінь вякоў

                                                          І шэпчуць: «Любім вас!»

 

                                                         На новай, на зямлі сваёй

                                                         Жывуць без злосці.

                                                         «Дзень добры» кажуць тут

                                                         І запрашаюць ў госці.

 

                                                        Каб побач пасядзець,

                                                        Каб песні паспяваць,

                                                       Каб шчыра усміхнуцца,

                                                       Настрой табе падняць.

 

                                                       Тут слова добрае

                                                       Жыве, гучыць, мацнее,

                                                       Як траўка, што вясною

                                                       На ўзгорку зелянее.

                                                       ---  ---  ---  ---  --- --- ---

                                                       Ідзём, зубы сцяўшы,

                                                       Па гразкай раллі.

                                                       Ці дойдзем калі мы

                                                       Да гэтай зямлі?

                                                                         2021 год.

 

                                                                                                    Аляксей Якімовіч

Сядзім на палубе…

 

Вірус ва ўсім свеце,

                                                       Раскашуе ён.

                                                       Нашая зямелька –

                                                       Яго палігон.

 

                                                       А мы не баімся,

                                                       Кажам са зларадствам:

                                                       -- Людская трывога –

                                                       Звычайнае вар’яцтва.

 

                                                       У футбол гуляем,

                                                       Бяжым за мячом.

                                                       А вірус таўсцее,

                                                       Быццам рыба сом.

 

                                                       Маскам абаронным

                                                       Чырвоная цана.

                                                       Каму вірус маці,

                                                       А каму – вайна.

 

                                                       Даўно  тыя маскі –

                                                       Раскоша для нас.

                                                       Радуецца вірус:

                                                       Прыйшоў яго час.

 

                                                       Іншы раз угору

                                                       З надзеяй пазіраем,

                                                       Ласкі Пана Бога,

                                                       Як дажджу, чакаем.

 

                                                       -- Гляджу на вас з неба

                                                       І сціскае жах:

                                                       Пустыя галовы

                                                       На вашых плячах.

 

                                                       Вось такія словы,

                                                       Нібы звон, гучаць.

                                                       Ходзім і не чуем,

                                                       У іншы бок ляцяць.

 

                                                       Жывём адным днём,

                                                       Не жыццё – вар’яцтва:

                                                       Для нас стала горам,

                                                       Для віруса – зларадствам.

 

                                                        Хочацца мне крыкнуць:

                                                        “Дзе наша зямля?”

                                                        Сядзім на палубе

                                                        Некіруемага карабля.

                                                                                                   2020 год.

 

                                                                                                    Аляксей Якімовіч

На дварэ мароз

                                                                                             

На дварэ, як злыдзень,

                                                      Дзед-мароз трашчыць.

                                                      А мая каханая

                                                      П'яная ляжыць.

 

                                                      Халадэча на дварэ,

                                                      Халадэча ў хаце.

                                                      Халадэча на душы

                                                      У майго дзіцяці.

 

                                                      Мой сынок маленькі

                                                      У кутку сядзіць,

                                                      На стале каструля

                                                      Брудная стаіць.

 

                                                      Прасіў тваю мамку:

                                                      -- Не купляй гарэлачку,

                                                      Бо гарэлачка вядзе

                                                      Да пустой тарэлачкі.

                                                     

                                                      Халадэча на дварэ,

                                                      Халадэча ў хаце.

                                                      Халадэча на душы

                                                      У майго дзіцяці.

 

                                                      Не бядуй, дзіцятка.

                                                      Мы напалім печку.

                                                      А ў нядзельку ў храме

                                                      Зноў паставім свечку.

 

                                                      Паставім там свечку

                                                      І папросім Бога,

                                                      Каб матульку ратаваў

                                                      Ён ад зелля злога.

 

                                                      Халадэча на дварэ,

                                                      Халадэча ў хаце.

                                                      Халадэча на душы

                                                      У майго дзіцяці.

 

                                                      Туліцца сыночак,

                                                      Спагады шукае,

                                                      На мамку здалёку

                                                      Ваўчком пазірае.

 

                                                      Не піце гарэлку,

                                                      Людзі дарагія.

                                                      Гэта гара завядзе

                                                      На шляхі крывыя.

 

                                                      На шляхах далёкіх тых

                                                      Адзінока будзе.

                                                      Цяжкім каменем пустэльня

                                                      Зваліцца на грудзі.

 

                                                      Халадэча на дварэ.

                                                      Пацяплела ў хаце:

                                                      Супчык смачненькі вару

                                                      Роднаму дзіцяці.

                                                                                  2020 год.

 

                                                                                                            Аляксей Якімовіч

Прывёў дзед у хату…

 

Прывёў дзед у хату

                                                         Дзеўку маладую.

                                                         Думае: палечыць

                                                         Душаньку старую.

 

                                                         Сядзяць яны ў хаце

                                                         І вядуць размову

                                                         Вочы апусціўшы,

                                                         Цэдзячы па слову.

 

                                                         Кажа дзед малодцы:

                                                         -- Я хоць лысаваты,

                                                         Але пазіраюць

                                                         На мяне дзяўчаты.

 

                                                         Не патраціў сілу.

                                                         Агарод магу ўскапаць,

                                                         А яшчэ з табою

                                                         Вечарочкам пагуляць.

 

                                                        Бліснула вачыма

                                                        Жвавая кабетка

                                                        І сказала дзеду

                                                        Прама ў вочы, метка:

 

                                                        -- Адумайся, дзед,

                                                        Не пары гарачку!

                                                        Калі хочаш пагуляць,

                                                        Завядзі сабачку.

 

                                                        Скрывіўся дзядуля,

                                                        Нібы воўк у яме,

                                                        І сказаў ён гэтак

                                                        Ганаровай даме:

 

                                                        -- Прыйшла ў маю хату

                                                        І не спагадаеш.

                                                        Па плячай кульбакай

                                                        Зараз атрымаеш!

 

                                                        Язык востры у малодкі,

                                                        Нібы з перцам шыла.

                                                        Быццам з кулямёта,

                                                        Мужыка прашыла:

 

                                                        -- Не палохай, дзед,

                                                        Кульбакай сваёй.

                                                        Заяўлю, што пагражаеш

                                                        Мне, нявіннай, маладой.

 

                                                        У астрог пасадзяць,

                                                        Нары мулкія дадуць.

                                                        Вось куды пагрозы

                                                        Цябе сёння завядуць.

 

                                                        Схамянуўся кавалер,

                                                        Зразумеў, што стараваты.

                                                        Дзверы насцеж адчыніў

                                                        І прагнаў красуню з хаты.

                                                                                                  2020 год.

 

                                                                                                   Аляксей Якімовіч

Сёння свята…

 

Сёння свята у мяне:

                                                         Дзень мовы адзначаю,

                                                         Словы прадзедаў маіх

                                                         Ў госці запрашаю.

 

                                                         Прыбягайце, калі ласка,

                                                         «Пералесак» і «чародка»,

                                                         І «павер'е», і «паверх»,

                                                         «Пагалоска» і «паводка»,

 

                                                         «Падвячорак» і «падвода»,

                                                         «Абаранак» і «падзея»,

                                                         «Бліскавіца» і абноўка»,

                                                         І «былінка», і «надзея».

 

                                                         Разам з вамі паспяваем

                                                         Пра каханне, пра масток

                                                         І пра тое, як вадзіца

                                                         Без канца бяжыць у ярок.

 

                                                         Прыляцелі мае госці.

                                                         Пасадзіў я іх за стол.

                                                         Тут былі «гусляр», «чарот»,

                                                         «Чаравікі», «лекі», «дол».

 

                                                          І «цясляр», і «чарада»,

                                                          І «суполка», і «балота»,

                                                          «Фарба» і «падмурак»,

                                                          «Лівень» і «турбота».

 

                                                          Шмат прыгожых,

                                                          Дзіўных слоў –

                                                          Незвычайных, залацістых

                                                          Беларускіх каласкоў.

 

                                                          За сталом пагаманілі,

                                                          Пра былое нагадалі.

                                                          Ну а потым, як звычайна,

                                                          На ўсе грудзі заспявалі:

 

                                                          -- А ў полі вярба,

                                                          Пад вярбой вада.

                                                          Там хадзіла, там гуляла

                                                          Дзеўка малада.

 

                                                          Дзеўка ад вады,

                                                          Хлопец да вады:

                                                          -- Пастой, пастой,

                                                                   дзяўчыначка,

                                                          Дай каню вады!

 

                                                          -- Рада б пастаяць,

                                                          Каню вады даць.

                                                          Мае босенькія ножкі –

                                                           Сцюдзёна стаяць.

 

                                                           -- Я зніму парчу,

                                                           Ножкі укручу,

                                                           А назад як я вярнуся,

                                                           Боцікі куплю.

                                                           --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --

                                                           Сёння свята у мяне,

                                                           Сёння я спяваю.

                                                           Каб не кіснуць ад нуды,

                                                           Настрой паднімаю.

                                                                                       2020 год.

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Антывірусныя прыпеўкі

 

За мяжою я была.

                                                               Бяды вірус нарабіў:

                                                               Добры домік “Для пацехі”

                                                               Ён аднойчы зачыніў.

 

                                                               -- Галасуйце за мяне! –

                                                              Папрасіў аратар.

                                                              Ну а я яму сказала:

                                                              -- Купі рэспіратар!

 

                                                              -- Скажы, мая мілая,

                                                              Дзе ўсю ноч гуляла?

                                                              -- Мяне вірус затрымаў,

                                                              З ім я прастаяла.

 

                                                              Цалуй, цалуй, мілы,

                                                              Адчуй маю ласку.

                                                              Мёдзікам намазала

                                                              Вірусную маску.

 

                                                              Мяне вірус даганяў,

                                                              А я уцякала.

                                                              Наваліўся б на мяне,

                                                              Калі б пачакала.

 

                                                              Калі з хаты я выходжу,

                                                              Прасам маску гладжу.

                                                              Свайго мілага люблю,

                                                              З вірусам не здраджу.

 

                                                              Забалела галава

                                                              І ноччу не спіцца:

                                                              Адварочваецца муж:

                                                              Віруса баіцца.

 

                                                              Вірус у госці завітаў.

                                                              Я яго прымала:

                                                              Тры гадзіны за сталом

                                                              Хлоркай частавала.

                                                                                       2020 год.

 

                                                             Не чапляйся, вірус,

                                                             Не буду з табою:

                                                             За два дні ты пастарэў,

                                                             Ужо з барадою.

 

                                                             Вады ў ванну напусціла

                                                             І палезла мыцца.

                                                             Вірус дзверы адчыніў.

                                                             Ён прыйшоў пабрыцца.

 

                                                             Я памыла рукі,

                                                             Я памыла ногі.

                                                             Лекара чакаю

                                                             З хуткай дапамогі.

 

                                                             Быў у мяне настаўнік,

                                                             Быў у мяне артыст.

                                                             Цяпер абнімае

                                                             Інфекцыяніст.

 

                                                             З мілым не сумуем,

                                                             Хоць не сустракаемся.

                                                             Мы каханнем разам з ім

                                                             У айнлайн займаемся.

 

                                                            Закахаўся ты ў мяне,

                                                            Падхапіў інфекцыю.

                                                            Дык цалуй, цалуй хутчэй,

                                                            Не чытай мне лекцыю.

 

                                                            Не чарні, мілы, мяне,

                                                            Не рабі як сажу.

                                                            Калі будзеш раўнаваць,

                                                            Вірусам намажу.

 

                                                            Раней з мілым я гуляла

                                                           У парку, дзе акацыі.

                                                           Цяпер з Муркаю сяджу

                                                           Я на ізаляцыі.

 

                                                           -- Ведаю, мой мілы:

                                                           Ходзіш да Параскі.

                                                           -- Каханнем не займаемся:

                                                           Шыем людзям маскі.

                                                                                     2020 год.

 

                                                             У касцях ламота

                                                             І у пот кідае.

                                                             А вірус калготкі

                                                             Мае прымярае.

 

                                                             На паляначцы сунічнай

                                                             Ягады збірала.

                                                             Да паўдня вірус прасіў –

                                                             Яму не давала.

 

                                                             Віна вірусу прынесла.

                                                             -- З півам пі, саколік!

                                                             Ну а вірус заявіў:

                                                             -- Я не алкаголік!

 

                                                             Прыйшоў мілы і тлумачыць:

                                                             -- Вірус добры, хлопец свой.

                                                            Я нарэшце зразумела:

                                                            Не сябруе з галавой.

 

                                                            Я да мамачкі іду,

                                                            Вестку мамачцы нясу:

                                                            Мілы мой зусім здурнеў:

                                                            Купіў вірусу касу.

 

                                                            Мілы п’яны прыцягнуўся,

                                                            Прама ў вочы кажа:

                                                            -- Віруса я запрасіў,

                                                            Разам з намі ляжа.

 

                                                           Вечарам мой мілы

                                                           Прыйшоў з магазіна.

                                                           -- Хлеба, солі ты купіў?

                                                           -- Там адна вакцына!

 

                                                            Ззаду вірус падышоў,

                                                            Дакрануўся да пляча.

                                                            Я не разгубілася:

                                                            Уваліла бухача.

 

                                                            Я у хаце не сяджу:

                                                            Каратэ займаюся.

                                                            Калі, вірус, падыдзеш,

                                                            З табой пазмагаюся.

 

                                                           Памылілася у вёсцы

                                                           Вясною бабуля:

                                                           З морквай вірус пасадзіла,

                                                           Думала: цыбуля.

 

                                                           Не ўсміхайся, вірус,

                                                           Не рабі мне вочкі.

                                                           Ніколі не ўбачыш

                                                           Мяне без сарочкі.

 

                                                           Вірус, вірус-горасей,

                                                           Не расказвай казкі.

                                                           Да вакцыны едзь хутчэй,

                                                           Каціся кілбаскай.

 

                                                           Мяне вірус запыніў,

                                                           Дзе расце асіна.

                                                           -- Уцякай! – яму сказала. –

                                                           Я твая вакцына.

                                                              

                                                           Мілы мне не здраджвае,

                                                           Выгінае спіну.           

                                                           Я ад віруса яму

                                                           Увяла вакцыну.

 

                                                            Была маладая –

                                                            Зваў “жоначка Марыя”.

                                                            Цяпер называе

                                                            Мяне “пандэмія”.

                                                                                         2020 год.