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Daniil Kharms

The Blue Notebook, No. 10 (Redheaded Man)

There lived a redheaded man who had no eyes and no ears.  He didn't
even have hair so that he was called redheaded only as a figure of
speech.   
He was unable to speak because he had no mouth. A nose, he didn't have
either.   
He didn't have hands and he didn’t have legs. And he had no stomach, no
back, no spine, and no innards to speak of.  He didn't have anything! So
that it’s unclear who it is we're talking about.     
In fact, we better change the subject now. 

Tumbling Babushkas (Excessive Curiosity)

A babushka, out of an excess of curiosity, slipped and plunged out of a


window and splattered herself.   
Another babushka stuck her head out to take a look at the other one and,
from an excess of curiosity, also took a tumble, splattering herself.   
Later, from the window spilled a third babushka, then a fourth and a fifth
one.   
By the time the sixth babushka came flying out, I grew bored with this
spectacle and took a walk to the Mal’tsevsky Market where they say
some blind cripple had been given a hand-knitted shawl. 

One Fat Man

One fat man invented a way to lose weight. And he lost it. The ladies
began pestering him, trying to pry out his secret. But the thin man replied
that it becomes men to lose weight, whereas it does not become ladies at
all; that ladies, on the contrary, ought to be full-figured. And he was
absolutely right.
Fable

One man of medium height said: "I would give anything if only I were
even a little bit taller."

He barely said it when he sees a lady medegician standing in front of him.

"What do you want?" says the medegician.

But the man of medium height just stands there so frightened he can't
even speak.

"Well?" says the medegician.

The man of medium height just stands there and says nothing. The
medegician vanished.

And the man of medium height started crying and biting his nails. First he
chewed off all the nails on his fingers, and then on his toes.

Reader! Think this fable over and it will make you very uncomfortable.

A Sonnet

A surprising thing happened to me: I suddenly forgot which comes first --


7 or 8. 
I went off to the neighbours and asked them what they thought on the
subject. 
Just imagine their and my surprise when they suddenly discovered that
they too couldn't recall how to count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 they remembered,
but they'd forgotten what followed. 
We all went to the overpriced food shop, the Gastronom on the corner of
Znamenskaya and Basseynaya street, and put our quandary to the cashier.
The cashier smiled sadly, pulled a small hammer out of her mouth and,
twitching her nose a bit, said -- I should think seven comes after eight
whenever eight comes after seven. 
We thanked the cashier and joyfully ran out of the shop. But then, having
thought about the cashier's words, we got depressed again, since her
words seemed to us to be devoid of any sense. 
What were we to do? We went to the Summer Garden and started
counting the trees there. But, getting as far as 6, we stopped and began to
argue: in the opinion of some, 7 came next, and in the opinion of others --
8. 
We would have argued for ages, but fortunately then some child fell off a
park bench and broke both his jaw-bones. This distracted us from our
argument. 
And then we dispersed homewards.

What They Sell in the Shops These Days

Koratygin came to see Tikakeyev but didn't find him in. 


At that time Tikakeyev was at the shop buying sugar, meat and
cucumbers. 
Koratygin hung about by Tikakeyev's door and was just thinking of
scribbling a note when he suddenly looked up to see Tikakeyev himself
coming, carrying in his arms an oilskin bag. 
Koratygin spotted Tikakeyev and shouted: -- I've been waiting for you a
whole hour! 
-- That's not true -- said Tikakeyev -- I've only been out of the house
twenty-five minutes. 
-- Well, I don't know about that -- said Koratygin -- except that I've
already been here a whole hour. 
-- Don't tell lies -- said Tikakeyev -- you should be ashamed to lie. 
-- My dear fellow! -- said Koratygin -- Be so good as to be a little more
particular with your expressions. 
-- I consider ... -- began Tikakeyev, but Koratygin interrupted him: 
-- If you consider . . . -- he said, but at this point Tikakeyev interrupted
Koratygin and said: 
-- A fine one you are! 
These words put Koratygin into such a frenzy that he pressed a finger
against one of his nostrils and through his other nostril blew snot at
Tikakeyev. 
Then Tikakeyev pulled the biggest cucumber out of his bag and hit
Koratygin across the head with it. 
Koratygin clutched at his head with his hands, fell down and died. 
That's the size of the cucumbers sold in the shops these days! 

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