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Birth
Birth
Birth
Ebook124 pages1 hour

Birth

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About this ebook

The author independently translates his works for foreign readers from Russian into English.
The reader is given the opportunity to get acquainted with the evolution of the author as a translator, and even to be outraged about this.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 27, 2018
ISBN9780463851487
Birth
Author

Alexey Danilov

I'm 44+. I was born and live in Belarus. I am opposed to the ideas of parasitism, whether it be ideology or religion, therefore I do not work and do not benefit in any other way the parasitic regime of my country. Unemployed and have no income since February 2017. Music: https://soundcloud.com/nebenerus art :https://www.deviantart.com/alexfantom If you are interested in my work, distribute my books among your friends. Patreon and most payment systems in Belarus are blocked! ___________________________________________________________________________ Мне 44+. Родился и живу в Беларуси. Противник идей паразитирования будь то идеология или религия, поэтому не работаю и не приношу пользу иным способом паразитирующему режиму моей страны. Безработный и не имею дохода с февраля 2017 года. Музыка: https://soundcloud.com/nebenerus art: https://www.deviantart.com/alexfantom Если вам интересно мое творчество, распространяйте мои книги среди своих друзей. Патреон и большинство платежных систем в Беларуси заблокированы!

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    Book preview

    Birth - Alexey Danilov

    Alexey Danilov

    Birth

    Сontents

    Capital punishment

    I have no choice

    Birth

    The soldier

    Fly

    Tale of an honest boy

    The bright Tomorrow

    Not mine

    You are still summer

    Revenge of the naked king

    Flag in the armoire

    A blanket

    Own way

    Technical Inspection

    Head and Ass

    Strike

    Reputation

    Who has the soul of a slave, he is not happy to be free

    Loneliness theorem

    Call-up to the crematory

    Runes

    Roar of soul

    Another's role

    I was lay on the beach

    What is propaganda

    Dead tree

    Valor

    Belly dance

    Mr. P

    We're strangers here

    The descendants of snitches

    The sneer of vanilla sky

    Fight

    Publicity

    Route 19

    Toopichok and aviator

    Ignominy awaits you

    Flea markets

    Boots

    Mistake

    Be damned who dreams of war!

    Capital punishment

    Capital punishment.

    The highest degree of power.

    Duke among slaves,

    His title is his armor.

    He is so high above the ground,

    That does not even hear.

    Verdict is not a musical sound

    And does not make the soul clear.

    Clinging to the sky

    The duke is afraid to break down.

    Above only the sun,

    Only God decides whom to burn.

    Fear is ruled the duke,

    Clutching the sky he is ready to kill.

    He is blind and does not read the book,

    The highest measure is his last hill.

    The Duke signs the sentence,

    The more power the easier it is to kill.

    But this is not his license,

    This is God's skill.

    Duke - the first man after God,

    But he sits too high.

    The highest measure is its result,

    But no one will cry.

    2018

    I have no choice

    I have no choice,

    I lost rejoice,

    A sneaky man stole my personal voice.

    Still at school

    I was not cool.

    Teachers taught me how to be fool.

    Class teacher considered me a lazy boy,

    She said that I would become nightman envoy.

    The teacher did not implement his plan,

    Because he did not make me a man.

    From school I escaped to technical school,

    I was shown how to use a different tool.

    I was shown how to use my hands and my head.

    I started reading books on a pot and in bed.

    I read in the hospital and in the rest room.

    It was in the army in the afternoon.

    But a drunken military punch me on the head.

    I'm not a composer. I am now a poet.

    I worked as a builder to buy a instrument.

    I worked as an electrician not to starve to death.

    For many years I collected money for a guitar.

    But my music did not make me a star.

    I dreamed, but someone changed my plan.

    You probably dandled. it's a sneaky man.

    He wanted to give me military boots.

    To make me a weapon and cut off my roots.

    I refused to be a weapon and now without income.

    I'm lost. I'm not here. Here remained my phantom.

    2018

    Birth

    At pressure of drawing lines

    The secret is born.

    Exposing the black and white

    In paper portrait look it from.

    The stubborn digital process

    Introduced it there.

    Pencil is moved by art impress,

    Live! nothing to compare.

    2018

    The soldier

    The soldier is your son,

    The soldier is your brother,

    Defender with a gun.

    But now in mourning mother.

    He was a one for all,

    With honor at the post.

    And hated everyone,

    In whom the death ghost.

    He did not die in battle,

    And did not fight for peace.

    Defended his dignity,

    To spite the enemies.

    Your son, your friend, your brother

    Resisted moral mud.

    Defender began smother,

    The soldiers became brute.

    He will not become father

    He was alone and gone.

    Everyone has mother

    But they are not all stone.

    And someone's mothers -fathers

    Conceal the sinners names.

    For their prodigal, lost babies

    The army is a sinful game.

    One form, one man and cattle.

    Manure and just a man.

    He did not die in battle,

    But he cut short began.

    Dung forces attack us.

    Sanity fell to zero.

    Bastards are given leave!

    Who became shit - a hero!

    The soldier is your son,

    Your brother and your friend,

    Remember! Machine gun

    Serves thieves' president!

    2018

    Fly

    A long time ago was a fly.

    Lord of all the flies on earth.

    He was a hairy and fat-liar liar.

    Who knows how this story is unearthed.

    There were many flies in the kingdom,

    The spirit of the flies was strong.

    Therefore, the Lord knew wisdom,

    And avoided eating shit for long.

    He ate Fruit, drank wine and jelly.

    But the people ate shit and shit blow.

    Lord did not want to be smelly.

    I will not say, It was too long time ago.

    The king loved cakes and custards.

    Every day many flies performed caprice.

    Food flowed like continuous musters.

    And nothing disturbed the royal peace.

    Once the king took a solemn festive fly parade.

    The king loved parades and was unheard of glad.

    In front of him were a frightening cascade.

    And one suddenly asked: "Who put crown on his head?

    Why does he have no shit on his face?

    And from the cream shines like a bee Lord.

    Perhaps an imposter took royal place?"

    People wanted to learn true words.

    "Why the king does not eat our bread?

    Is he seriously ill? or a national hero?

    Maybe he is not a king? and the king is dead."

    "But, who am I

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