Some translated old poems of mine

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  1. LittleBabyNothing
    Endless summer

    The fragile whiteness
    of bitter snowflake
    is waving in
    the top of the throat
    like a firefly
    in the whirlwind
    in black ribbed
    jungles of citty.

    And death has been
    left behind in opera
    dressed in dirty
    laced underwear.

    When it`s the endless summer,
    snowflake clouds
    just leave you
    dissapointed.

    Because the first snow
    is never coming back again.

    Never.

    And death in opera is bored.


    War
    Turn up my ground
    with citties of
    your skyscrapes

    so that forever staying wounds
    get swollen
    like mouth of beasts
    when jumping for food.

    And we will fly
    to the place where
    all the worlds plains-suiciders
    crush into splashes of
    nunclear bombs.

    The seed of destruction
    has allready been sown.
    From towers blooming
    after rain.

    Washed with fireworks
    of slithereens
    ground keeps breathing
    hot joy.
    Peace wrapped in morning
    sheets.

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