The gluttonous cannibal full of larcenies’ cruelties,
the phallic pride of the fatherland, the portrait
of the bubonic plague from the depth of a poisoned
heart dried by his own revolts by his red phallic pride
embittered by others’ acts of violence he is tormented
by the suspicion that he is not like all the people
and he’s unjustly contemptuously spat on and
that everyone carries bubonic plagues in himself
because no one, no one in the world escapes
untouched, you must always seek to blow her
into someone’s face and to infect him. Natural
is the microbe, natural is the virus. I am an honest
man and I have honest ancestors ‒ the Thracians,
the Dacians, the Lacians, the Sarmatians.
They didn’t infect anyone. Yeah, but they perished,
it’s tiring for you to be a wicked man, it’s tiring
for you to permanently be evil and my ancestors
got tired in regular combats they were put to flight,
decapitated or driven into slavery. Since ancient
Greece and Rome this nation of the Sarmatians
from whom the Moldovans and the Karavlakhians
are descended this nation was of too little trust
treacherous, traitorous, lazy and stinking, was
haunting the place between the empires
and when in danger falling immediately
with their ass up. They perished and we are
remnants of Hunnic-Tatar hordes that’s why
I defend my shit with the axe so that the dogs
not eat it hot. That’s why I became a cannibal
as are the Jews and I don’t forgive anyone
and anything. Today we are just like the cow’s
placenta that the cow chews choking to swallow it
neurasthenia in all of them and laziness.
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