I do not love for outcome to be fatal, Never feel I the tiredness of life, I do not love the every single season If not my singing has some joy and laugh. Neither I love some frosty cynic matters, Admiring is not the thing I trust, Nor should I love the stranger read my letters By looking over shoulders of my back. Neither I love when it is half-completed, Nor do I, when it interrupts a talk. I do not love gun shooting in the back and I do oppose the shot straight in my heart.                 And when I see the wings are fully broken, Have no remorse, and that's the reason why: I do not love the violence and weakness And sorry for the Christ they crucified.                
Svetlana Nikulina. Translation, 2013