Even in dirt
like that of a saleslady's skirt,
people, I love you.
How can we so vulnerably depraved
avail ourselves
of Savonarola's clear view,
or heartburn
of upright sense
and regard,
or psalms of Dave
while clipped we've been
off our rear guard
like coupons off a bond.
Original: slova.org.ru/mariengof/dazhe_dryaznini/