Не мое, но тоже радует ;) Я вас...

Not mine, but also happy;)

I loved you, wrote poetry (what kind of Pushkin is there!),
I constantly tormented myself, creating ...
And you - for vodka with an ugly girlfriend,
Your idol is Bacchus, poetically speaking.

I dreamed of pouring French perfume on you,
Put on the ring, hang the anchor clips ...
But you were drinking on a bench with men
Well, they drank, poetically speaking.

I only wanted to talk to you about high things,
Composing a sonnet, staring at the sky ...
And you vomited with drunken grape juice,
Well, they cleaned up, poetically speaking.

I wanted to take you out of town, to the raspberry patch,
So that your lips melt, with berry juice of grief ...
But you sucked the bastard's dick for fifty dollars
They worked for bread, poetically speaking.
I wanted to feed you lunch in a restaurant,
Serve wine and baked eel ...
And you fucked at the entrance drunk with a neighbor,
They loved passionately, poetically speaking.

I didn't want sex or blowjob from you
I dreamed about the spiritual, rhymes, littering ...
I stopped loving you, the poet's soul did not bear,
Fuck you, poetically speaking.