He's not boring, but he's active,
And in that activity of the fool
He's magically naive.
But only here at the scoundrel
A very serious desire,
Excessive hapki appetite.
Like all poor creatures,
He does not Shine, but hamovit.
And already feigned loyalty
The whole pack is full of joy…
The evening ceases to be languid,
But there's a lot of shit in that.