Перевод Ани Крушельницкой

AT SEASIDE, by Kozma Prutkov (circa 1860)

At seaside, right next to the border,
There’s a big kitchen garden I know,
Where rhubarb grows tall and majestic,
Where cabbages modestly grow.

A gardener strolls in no hurry,
Minding his plantings each morn.
His smock is untidy and dirty,
His overcast eyes full of scorn.

He’ll water his cabbages, careless;
O’er his rhubarb he’ll hold his can high.
He’ll snip off a handful of green leeks,
Then after he’ll heave a deep sigh.

One day, an important official
Rides a troika, sans fear, sans regret.
He’s wearing tall padded galoshes,
He’s sporting a golden lorgnette.

The visitor asks: “Where’s your daughter?”
He narrows his lorgnetted eye.
The gard’ner stares back like a madman,
Waving his hand in reply.

So the troika takes off in a hurry,
Knocking dew off rhubarb as it goes…
The gard’ner still stands there, all sullen,
His finger a-dig up his nose.

Некоторых приходится обожать с омерзением, несмотря
ни на что. Еще более балладно получилось по-английски.
Занятно, что рифма "огородник -- передник" раньше была,
очевидно, карикатурно плохая, а сейчас наоборот.

http://lj.rossia.org/users/aculeata/1840639.html