K.Prutkov, My Portrait - Translation (Rus.) - Poem by Lyudmila Purgina
When you meet a person in the mob,
Whose's naked 'n thin, *
Whose forehead's dark and frowned more
Than Kazbek peak,
Whose locks're shuffled, messed,
Who weeps and cry -
And shivers nervesvously - guess?
That's sure - mine.
Who's stung anew maliciously over -
And this seems fate,
And crowd crazyly his laurels -
Who never bends his back before -
It is mine, forsaken,
A smile I keep on face, and more -
In bosom - snake.
* whose's dressed tails in - Kozma Prutkov
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