Not difficult, lilies of the valley breathing,
writing poetry in the suburban dacha.
And we are not.
We instead of a pencil
on a brand new wheelbarrow.
cadet, pozhalte, sit down, nate.
Do not hover, gentlemen.
All will remain - and allies and enemies.
first large, then small fry.
All of Russia
through laughter and hubbub
we will roll.
But and Narva,
peals of laughter burst of defiance.
Look, whether any thing has not overlooked?
That there was no indulgence is shown to anyone.
Time does not wait,
Each take on a wheelbarrow!