В. Набоков

Dolores Haze 

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze. 
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet. 
Age: five thousand three hundred days. 
Profession: none, or "starlet."

Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze? 
Why are you hiding, darling? 
(I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze, 
I cannot get out, said the starling).

Where are you riding, Dolores Haze? 
What make is the magic carpet? 
Is a Cream Cougar the present craze? 
And where are you parked, my car pet?

Who is your hero, Dolores Haze? 
Still one of those blue-caped star-men? 
Oh the balmy days and the palmy bays, 
And the cars, and the bars, my Carmen!

Oh Dolores, that juke-box hurts! 
Are you still dancin', darlin'? 
(Both in worn levis, both in torn T-shirts, 
And I, in my corner, snarlin').

Happy, happy is gnarled McFate 
Touring the States with a child wife, 
Plowing his Molly in every State 
Among the protected wild life.

My Dolly, my folly! Her eyes were vair, 
And never closed when I kissed her. 
Know an old perfume called Soleil Vert? 
Are you from Paris, mister?

Dying, dying, Lolita Haze, 
Of hate and remorse, I'm dying. 
And again my hairy fist I raise, 
And again I hear you crying.

Officer, officer, there they go- 
In the rain, where that lighted store is! 
And her socks are white, and I love her so, 
And her name is Haze, Dolores.

Officer, officer, there they are- 
Dolores Haze and her lover! 
Whip out your gun and follow that car. 
Now tumble out, and take cover.

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze. 
Her dream-gray gaze never flinches. 
Ninety pounds is all she weighs 
With a height of sixty inches.

My car is limping, Dolores Haze, 
And the last long lap is the hardest, 
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays, 
And the rest [bad word] and stardust.