Посоветуйте ,плиз,сайты, где есть стихи Джона Леннона

очень нужны стихи Джона. В каком-то , не помню в каком, сайте я находила уже несколько его стихов,но это было давно...

Могу помочь пока одним - https://www.beatles.ru/books/articles.asp?article_id=726

Помощь от Анатолия Новикова из Твиттера: http://twitter.com/hrych/status/81261388261101570

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>Могу помочь пока одним - https://www.beatles.ru/books/articles.asp?article_id=726

ХОТЬ И ПЕРЕВОД, НО ВСЁ ЖЕ СПАСИБО!

нашла:) http://beatlesnumber9.com/spaniard.html

THE FAT BUDGIE

I have a little budgie
He is my very pal
I take him walks in Britain
I hope I always shall.

I call my budgie Jeffrey
My grandads name's the same
I call him after grandad
Who had a feathered brain.

Some people don't like budgies
The little yellow brats
They eat them up for breakfast
Or give them to their cats.

My uncle ate a budgie
It was so fat and fair.
I cried and called him Ronnie
He didn't seem to care

Although his name was Arthur
It didn't mean a thing.
He went into a petshop
And ate up everything.

The doctors looked inside him,
To see what they could do,
But he had been too greedy
He died just like a zoo.

My Jeffrey chirps and twitters
When I walk into the room,
I make him scrambled egg on toast
And feed him with a spoon.

He sings like other budgies
But only when in trim
But most of all on Sunday
Thats when I plug him in.

He flies about the room sometimes
And sits upon my bed
And if he's really happy
He does it on my head.

He's on a diet now you know
>From eating far too much
They say if he gets fatter
He'll have to wear a crutch.

It would be funny wouldn't it
A budgie on a stick
Imagine all the people
Laughing till they're sick.

So that's my budgie Jeffrey
Fat and yellow too
I love him more than daddie
And I'm only thirty two.

THE FAULTY BAGNOSE

Softly, softly, treads the Mungle
Thinner thorn behaviour street.
Whorg canteell whorth bee asbin?
Cam we so all complete,
With all our faulty bagnose?

The Mungle pilgriffs far awoy
Religeorge too thee worled.
Sam fells on the waysock-side
And somforbe on a gurled,
With all her faulty bagnose!

Our Mungle speaks tonife at eight
He tells us wop to doo
And bless us cotten sods again
Oamnipple to our jew
(With all their faulty bagnose).

Bless our gurlished wramfeed
Me cursed cafe kname
And bless thee loaf he eating
With he golden teeth aflame
Give us OUR faulty bagnose!

Good Mungle blaith our meathalls
Woof mebble morn so green the wheel
Staggaboon undie some grapeload
To get a little feel
of my own faulty bagnose.

Its not OUR faulty bagnose now
Full lust and dirty hand
Whitehall the treble Mungle speak
We might as wealth be band
Including your faulty bagnose

Give us thisbe our daily tit
Good Mungle on yer travelled
A goat of many coloureds
Wiberneth all beneath unravelled
And not so MUCH OF YER FAULTY BAGNOSE!

THE WUMBERLOG (OR THE MAGIC DOG)

Whilst all the tow was sleepy
Crept a little boy from bed
To fained the wondrous peoble
Wot lived when they were dead.

He packed a little voucher
For his dinner 'neath a tree.
'Perhumps a tiny dwarf or two
Would share abite with me?

'Perchamp I'll see the Wumberlog
The highly feathered crow,
The larfing leaping Harristweed
And good old Uncle Joe.'

He packed he very trunkase,
Clean sockers for a week,
His book and denzil for his notes,
Then out the windy creep.

He met him friendly magic dog,
All black and curlew too,
Wot flew him fast in second class
To do wot he must do.

'I'll leave you now sir,' said the dog,
'But just before I go
I must advise you,' said his friend
'This boat to careflee row.'

'I thank you kindly friendly pal,
I will,' and so he did,
And floated down towards the land
Where all the secrets hid.

What larfs aplenty did he larf,
It seeming so absurd;
Whilst losing all his oars,
On his head he found a bird.

'Hello,' the bird said, larfing too,
'I hope you don't mind me,
I've come to guide you here on in,
In case you're lost at sea.'

Well fancy that, the boy thought,
I never knew till now
That birds could speak so plainly.
He wondered - wonder how?

'What kind of bird are you sir?'
He said with due respect,
'I hope I'm not too nosey
But I didn't not expect.'

'I am a wumberlog you see,'
The bird replied - all coy,
'The highly feathered species lad,
You ought to jump for joy.'

'I would I would, if only, but
You see - well - yes, oh dear,
The thing is dear old Wumberlog
I'm petrified with fear! '

'Now don't be silly' said the bird,
'I friendly - always - and
I'm not like Thorpy Grumphlap,
I'll show you when we land.'

And soon the land came interview,
A 'tastic sight for sure,
An island with an eye to see
To guide you into shore.

'Hard to starboard' said a tree,
'Yer focsle mainsle blast
Shivver timbers wayard wind
At last yer've come at last.'

'You weren't expecting me, I hope'
The boy said, puzzled now.
'Of course we are' a thing said,
Looking slightly like a cow.

'We've got the kettle going lad,'
A cheerful apple say,
'I'll bring a bag of friends along
Wot you can have for tay.'

A teawell ate, with dog and tree
Is not a common sight,
Especially when the dog himself
Had started off the flight.

'How did you get here curlew friend?'
The boy said all a maze.
'The same way you did, in a boat,'
The dog yelled through the haze.

'Where are all the peoble, please,
Wot live when they are dead?
I'd like to see them if I may
Before I'm back in bed.'

'You'll see them son,' a carrot said,
"Don't hurry us; you know
You've got to eat a plate of me
Before we let you go!'

Then off to see the peoble whom
The lad had come to see
And in the distance there he saw
A group of tweilve or three.

A little further on at last
There were a lot or more,
All digging in the ground and that,
All digging in the floor.

'What are you digging all the time?'
He asked them like a brother.
Before they answered he could see
They really dug each other,

In fact they took it turns apiece
To lay down in the ground
And shove the soil upon the heads
Of all their friends around.

Well, what a sight! I ask you now.
He had to larf out lnud.
Before he knew what happened
He'd gathered quite a crowed.

Without a word, and spades on high,
They all dug deep and low,
And placed the boy into a hole
Next to his Uncle Joe.

'I told you not to come out here,'
His uncle said, all sad.
'I had to Uncle,' said the boy.
'You're all the friend I had.'

With just their heads above the ground
They bade a fond goodbye,
With all the people shouting out
"Here's mud into your eye! '
(And there certainly was.)

THE NATIONAL HEALTH COW

I strolled into a farmyard
When no-one was about
Treading past the troubles
I raised my head to shout.

'Come out the Cow with glasses,'
I called and rolled my eye.
It ambled up toward me,
I milked it with a sigh.

'You're just in time' the cow said,
Its eyes were all aglaze,
'I'm feeling like an elephant,
I aren't been milked for days.'

'Why is this? ' I asked it,
Tugging at its throttles.
'I don't know why, perhaps it's 'cause
MY milk comes out in bottles.'

'That's handy for the government,'
I thought, and in a tick
The cow fell dead all sudden
(I'd smashed it with a brick).

BERNICE'S SHEEP

This night I lable down to sleep
With hefty heart arid much saddened
With all the bubbles of the world
Bratting my boulders
Oh dear sheep

I slapter counting one be one
Till I can cow nomore this day
Till bethny hard aches leave we
Elbing my ethbreeds
Dear Griff's son

What keeps me alberts owl felloon
That is earl I ask from anybottly
That I grape me daily work
Cronching our batter
My own basssoon.

Can I get a gribble of me
Should I heffer alway sickened
Should you nabbie my furbern
Wilfing their busbie
Oh dear me.

No! I shall streze my eber-teap!
With lightly loaf and great larfter
With head held eye and all
Graffing my rhimber
Oh dear sheep.

OUR DAD

It wasn't long before old dad
Was cumbersome - a drag.
He seemed to get the message and
Began to pack his bag.

'You don't want me around,' he said,
'I'm old and crippled too.'
We didn't have the heart to say
'You're bloody right it's true.'

He really took an age and more
To pack his tatty kleid.
We started coughing by the door,
To hurry him outside.

'I'm no use to man nor beast,'
He said, his eye all wet.
'That's why we're getting rid of you,
Yer stupid bastard, get.'

His wrinkIed face turned up to us
A pleading in his look;
We gave him half-a-crown apiece
And polished up his hook.

'It's not that we don't like you dad.'
Our eyes were downcast down.
'We've tried to make a go of it
Yer shrivelled little clown! '

At last he finished packing all,
His iron hand as well.
He even packed the penis
What he'd won at bagatell.

"Spect you'll write a line or two?'
He whined - who could resist?
We held his face beneath the light
And wrote a shopping list.

'Goodbye my sons and fare thee well,
I blame yer not yer see,
It's all yer mothers doing lads,
She's had it in for me.'

'You leave our mother out of this!'
We screamed all fury rage,
'At least she's working for her keep
And nearly twice your age!'

'I'd sooner starve than be a whore!'
The old man said, all hurt.
'Immoral earnings aren't for me,
and living off her dirt.'

'She washes everyday,' we said
Together, all at once.
'It's more than can be said for you
Yer dirty little ponce!'

At last upon the dooistep front
He turned and with a wave
He wished us all 'Good Heavens'
And hoped we'd all behave.

'The best of luck to you old dad!'
We said with slight remorse,
'You'll dig it in the workhouse man.'
(He wouldn't though of course.)

'Ah well he's gone and thats a fact,'
We muttered after lunch,
And hurried to the room in which
He used to wash his hunch.

'Well here's a blessing in disguise;
Not only money too;
He's left his pension book as well
The slimy little jew!'

'What luck we'll have a party
Inviting all our friend.
We've only one but she's a laugh
She lets us all attend.'

We never heard from dad again
I 'spect we never shall
But he'll remain in all our hearts
- a buddy friend and pal.

не могу найти только вот эту книгу ..везде продаётся, а почитать не нашла ..

Skywriting by Word of Mouth: And Other Writings, Including "The Ballad of John and Yoko", 1986

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