Nikolai Astafiev. (№ 327379)

When there is something intended,
my soul is confused rebels
and to protest his tries.
There is no censorship, but the censors remained
they seek sedition not tired
all those less gifted.
Born in the era of obeliski,
they knock, rather in the habit of-
I know their prey, sharp eyes.
Equipped with hooves, horns,
they put us fools
but as always, clear their outfit.