Wipe off greasy smile

Victor Shendrik



Wipe off greasy smile,
And I'm willing to bet
That just make mistakes
In the eight-year-old number three.

And seduced me, coward,
Wandering through the marketplace,
At random and let in the soul
Poetry, weather and people.

Always with me, always on the scene
Errors with the ambition of geese,
And boredom defeats
And experience their famous son.

Ah, what a memory unsteady!
In a good hour a day
One cute bug
A poet has made me?

Appease the sad laments,
Let not tasted on silver,
I'm afraid, not about the successes
On his deathbed, I will remember.

Fade goldfish
When fate to me is not evil.
They are with me, my mistakes.
They are innumerable, they are innumerable.