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Igor Vykhovanets
Poems
Jan 2
The Herds
I believe! Though little knowing—
Facts mean naught to herds below.
To the barking, snarling, crowing
Dogs, they yield and blindly go.
Herds are tightened, penned in places,
Marked for slaughter, bound to fail.
Faith persists, as time erases—
Sheep comply with darkened tales.
“Laws” decree: the shears are needed
For the health of every lamb.
Rotting hay by rain is seeded,
Mud-soaked pastures—who gives ****?
Shepherds, wise, intend no sorrow
For their docile, woolly throng.
Blades are honed, and come the morrow,
Neighbors fall—the weak, the wrong.
And the nearby flocks are trembling—
War returns to claim its due.
Drink your fill, oh beasts assembling:
Blood will flow to sate the few!
In Russian:
Стада
Верю! Очень мало знаю —
Факт для стада ерунда:
Подчиненье вою, лаю
Псов, которые стада
Уплотняют и в загоны
Загоняют на шашлык —
Суть той веры. Тьмы "законы"
Исполнять баран привык.
В тех "законах" сутью: стрижка
Для здоровия важна;
Сено тухлое — отрыжка —
От дождей земля влажн'а.
Пастырь вумный зла не хочет
Для послушливых овец:
На врагов ножи он точит —
Что ж, соседи, вам конец.
И соседние загоны
Задрожали — вновь война.
Будут ТВАРЯМ мяса тонны —
С кровью чаши пей до дна!
Written by
Igor Vykhovanets
58/M/Moldova
(58/M/Moldova)
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