I Am A Simple Russian Wench Poem by Liza Sud

I am a simple Russian wench.
And we milked the cows - in a stable,
But no cream with coffee to bed!
We have different classes! Great!

I'm a kholop, you are elite.
But with the gun upon my sleeve:
It's Ulyanov who gave this gift,
And he taught to kill enemy.

I don't communicate with "cream".
I hate these murderers- the fur coats,
have no make up, don't wear heels.
I am the Bolshevik. For a moment.

I don't wait for a feeble "hug."
I knock them off their feet outright,
When in ecstasy a foe shouts,
With carnations - I smash him down!