I donít like fatal outcomes, Frome life never not tire. I donít like any time of year, When happy songs I donít sing. I donít like cold cynicism In enthusiasm I donít believe, and still - When another my reads letters, Looking me through shoulder.                 I donít like confidence satisfied. Really better may refuse brake. Sad me, how word "honor" forgotten, And how in honor slander by eyes. When I see broken wings, no pity in me, and not without purpose. I donít like violence and helplessness. Here only sorry crucified Crist. I donít like myself when I an cowardly. Sad me, when innocents beat. I donít like, when me crawl in soul. All more, when in it spit. I donít like maneges and arenas. In them million change by ruble, Though ahead big changes, This is never not will like.
© Artemy Troitsky. Translation, ?