Necrusoff. The Nail-sized Manlet

One day in a cold and a winterest season
I went from the forest. Was very strong frost.
I see: coming up on the hill very slowly
The horse that was handling the carriage of sticks.

And stepping importarntly, phlegm decorous,
The horse has been driven with bridle by small man,
In big govnostups, in the half coat of sheepskin,
In very big mittens, himself like a nail.

– Hello, motherfucker! – Bypass from my route!
– You painfully dreadful, as far as I see.
– Where are your sticks from? – From the forest, well known.
The father is cutting and I DHL.

The forest was full of the axe of woodcutter.
– And what, fathers family’s size is too huge?
– The family huge, but there’s only two people
Who male on the freedom – my father and me.

– So this it what was! What your name? – Maybe Vlasom?
– And which is your year? – The sixth has been passed.
– Well, dead! – shout manlet in low frequency spectrum,
– Jerk down a bridle and fasten seat belt quicken his steps.