I am a closed person,
Masking my essence.
I exist discreetly and quietly,
I don’t break dishes in restaurants.

Without working in a public field,
Hunting in private fields,
I am from birth in any team
On the fourth and fifth roles.

Sexy, according to reviews, in moderation
(Here is an amendment for a long experience),
But at the same time, mind you, hetero,
That today is almost shocking.

At night, imitating the craving
For the demonstration of dreams in reality, I
cover the paper with words
And in the morning with pleasure I ditch.

I come from Soviet plebeians,
Inescapable in work and in battle, I
have a neighbor, Konobeev,
I drink vodka with him on Fridays.

I am not a hypocrite, not a Pharisee
And I firmly declare this -
We are ahead of the whole planet
Not only in the field of ballet.

So that the thread is not interrupted,
So as not to be covered with a copper basin.
We drank, we drink and we will drink
Contrary to any decrees.

Due to the absence of roads,
Metaphysical drunkenness
is not a social vice,
but the pathos of the Russian space.

We are alcoholized through and through,
Everything has fermented inside us,
But the famous “maybe”
Never let us down.