I don’t like the fatal outcome,
I never get tired of life.
I don’t like any time of year,
When I don’t sing funny songs.

I don’t like cold cynicism,
I don’t believe in enthusiasm, and yet -
When a stranger reads my letters,
Looking over my shoulder.

I don’t like it when it’s half-hearted.
Or when they stopped talking.
I don’t like being shot in the back,
I’m also against point-blank shots.

I hate gossip in the form of versions,
Worms of doubt, honors of the needle,
Or when all the time against the wool,
or when iron on glass.

I do not like the certainty of satiety,
Better to give up the brakes.
I’m sorry the word "honor" is forgotten.
And that in honor lies for the eyes.

When I see broken wings -
There is no pity in me, and for a reason:
I do not like violence and powerlessness,
It is a pity for the crucified Christ.

I don’t like myself when I’m trash,
I hate it when innocent people are beaten.
I don’t like being dragged into my soul,
Especially when they spit in it.

I don’t like arenas and arenas:
They change milon for ruble.
There are big changes ahead -
I will never love this!