A song about a red sweater

Vladimir Uflyand

In potetele English red wool I
not bzdyum Epiphany frosts invasion,

and the future of Sheksna, for Vorksloyu
Now I see wearing a thing overseas.

I think: obzavedys currency,
we would have overcome the fierce nature.

I see the proud building with bathrooms,
filled to the brim with the Slavs,

and clouds with birds, Propeller crossed,
not to knowingly communicate with the baptism,

whose morals rigorous and hands in his face popping
softens the secret ballot.

There's a club, looking at night, disposable
overlap plate accordion jazz,

and the girls there squinting, his breath that I,
holey from executions air shtop.

There in the afternoon, scientists remove the foam from the experiences,
And there Faibishenko burns star, and Roars,

Zane income went from them astronomy,
and there pylyus on every shelf in every house I.

here, I think, what all this will result.
But if you suddenly begin to limp Cyrillic

from a strong excess of branded items,
prinikni, seraph, face to face and tear my,

that in latitudes, similar to coarse fold roboyu,
in which Asia is easy to mix with Europe,

he fluttered, waiting basurmanina,
as a flag, remaining on the ice from the Papanin.

9(?) February 1970

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