How do you do, small dead herring?
How do you do, small dead herring?
How are you? Is life like sugar?
Are you still enduring, bearing
Those black wounds and cynics` humour?
Will you salt the scars, get thirsty
And drop tears for the broken?
One is never blessed but cursed
Whose heart can't stop being open.
My own thoughts itch like old blisters.
They will burst and then burn down.
All the roses will be thistles
But rags won't be a king's gown.
If you are to stumble, stumble.
But why go on being filthy?
My friend turned to be a jackal,
But it's me who is called evil.
23.05.2017 (перевод "Здравствуй, дохлая селёдка")
