I don't like children since childhood,
I still endure strangers,
But here ...
Until the deadline, they will bring me to the coffin
Their endless fuss,
Their vagaries.
When would we live without venture
I would have asked them lashes
With all my heart,
But try them with your finger,
Such a stench will begin here
At least the light of the carcass.
At the sight of them, my dear George,
Trembling
Throwing into sweat
And you, Great Daniel,
It was not for nothing that a bucket of ink drew up,
Cherny is their family.
Still in my ears is not a verse
While I am writing this verse
Their squeal and top.
I have not loved children since childhood,
After all, I, alas, are not a pedophile
I am a pedophob.