Thoughts of a Russian man

I want to tell you all about Russia …
It’s nature‘s rich, petroleum it pumps,
For the eyes are pleasing Olgas and Natashas,
And there’s a shitload of pipelines.

I spat on North America and Europe.
I spat on your ideals and way of life.
Perverts with naked asses walk amongst you,
Upon the stage you cherish bearded dikes.

For Anglo-Saxons I will say this plainly,
You shall remember till the end of times:
- I am immoral and behaving badly,
Lack of inbreeding makes me do my crimes.

I walk through life in one old, soiled coat.
In Russia who is there to impress?
I play the balalaika in the morning,
Then walk my bear, burp and scratch my ass.

I fortify my health with moonshined vodka,
I drink and pickled cucumbers I chew.
If travel I from Piter to Nakhodka
It takes ten days by rail on the chu-chu.

My girlfriend may extinguish house fire,
Or stop the crazed galloping stallion,
She may a glass of vodka guzzle down
And go on a date with sober tone.

We live like this. We do not read newspapers.
We go to neither opera, nor ballet.
And women here do not wait for city trains,
And city trans are not existing yet.

We do not like to wash up in the morning.
All children’s cheeks are red of allergies.
But we are keen on procreation topics
At all times ready for promiscuities.

We are untidy by your set of rules.
We, Muscovites, are savages from East.
“Russkis” rednecks we are and country fools.
But it is clear: we have the hefty fists.

And as you walk, walk clear around Russia.
You shouldn’t stick your nose in our backyard.
Or else - without political correctness -
That nose will be bleeding and fucked up.

Переведено на Английский язык стихотворение Аглаи Стиходеевой, которое по ссылке http://stihi.ru/2018/07/09/4793