They asked me again: “Do you like the NEP?” – “love,- I answered,- when it is not absurd”

Many comrades were hanged nose.
– drop it, companions!
Not very smart, sir.
To the arena!
Go fight the merchants!
It is necessary to beat the scores to learn.
Let be “seriously and for a long time”,
but there,
may a new October happen.
The proletarian is not nice to the bourgeois from Adam.
But before I was afraid –
no matter how dropped;
rude, of course,
but moderately rude –
and that
revolutions will not come true after.
Yes and that
in October
proletarian need
from under their belly-load –
broke through
and drove_a_la aspen stake
round the world their belly.
And so,
Emcheka nursed,
creepy thing yesterday –
three-story “NEP” hooting now for us:
“Guess what, stuffed cabbage!
caught, companions!”
Against them
engineering and accounting numbers
don't bother, out with a rifle.
Ihnim blow-out arithmetic –
clenching his teeth
and hating.
The bourgeois Lorenzo was magnificent.
Except that
will be very upset with champagne –
will take
and throw out his knees:
– but only! –
smear with mustard.
Yes and that
in October
proletarian need,
clutching them in a fist to a crunch, –
“I will not be in lackeys!”
hungry themselves,
opening doors for them “Grotesque”,
know –
all of us
grease first:
“NEP” – they say.
You don't like having a smeared face?
And me – too.
I don't like it, I do not like,
and the devil only knows,
how to deal with them.
It was a bourgeois
and greasy
and fat,
tore a hundred – a hundred,
for a thousand – thousand.
v “Merilyzah” you
and coat-s,
and nails,
and boots.
Yes and that
in October
proletarian need
“Get out if you please!”
And now the bourgeoisie!
What does she do?
No boots for you,
no chintz,
not a nail!
She is –
makes an elephant out of a fly
and after
sells ivory.
Don't like the production of elephant bone?
Products in_a_če!
And so sit and “noble” torment –
nothing will come of it.
Let be
from the thoughts of the huckster
wrinkles – moat.
Take the merchant's experience into your brain!
we will hear from countries of the worlds
revolutions joyful stomp.

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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