The Land Of Nod Poem by Liza Sud

you must sleep here, in the land of nod
and never move as a madman.
then they will certanly soon promote
your work, will boldly love you.

Here - a gray mass, having merged with it,
you will not cause abuses.
Koreans - the workers of the high speed
the Russian - have other muses.

Wonders are made by power here,
powers impose a wonder.
the Russian passion is to be straight,
But everywhere God shines.

Zhirinovsky beat a donkey, for that
He was nicknamed the butcher.
driving forward -it's foreign blood,
Russian with speed? - they can not.