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"The Oak in the Oak Grove" (September 5, 2024), a song, a poem
http://stihi.ru/2024/09/05/6442
https://proza.ru/2024/09/05/1554
September 5th , 2024
The Oak Tree in The Oak Grove, a song, a poem
In the Oak Coffins
They are lots: all
Killed: in a row.
They shouted:
- 'Hurrah!'
They run in an attack.
But they took the oak tree:
The dead, in rows,
In oak coffins,
They are lying
Near the Highest Big Oak Tree.
My Heart! Please, not cry!
See there are:
Wild Boars
And these big fat white
Pigs ,
They
came
closed
To This Highest Big Oak Tree.
They are looking
Acorns frrom the oak tree,
They looking for.
See there are:
Wild Boars
And these big fat white
Pigs ,
They
came
closed
To This Highest Big Oak Tree.
They are looking
Acorns frrom the oak tree,
They looking for the dead.
These
Wild Boars
And these big fat white
Pigs ,
They are eating acorns from oak trees
And that dead soldiers bodies
Like oak acorns:
The Wild Boars and pigs'es,
Their Food
In their stomaches.
Their wild boars and pigs lard will be cutted and
Salted:
Our favourite homemade
Food on our table
In The Autumn,
with a Homemade Vodka and an Garlic.
But the oak coffins made
from a heavy strong thick oak wood
and it is hidden deeply underground.
The dead in their oak coffins
are hidden and safe there
from all wild boars and from all fat white pigs
deeply underground .
You are a Dirty Horror Movies Playing Pranks,
You are, The Boars! With Your Pigs!
We will not let you
That Our Dead will be eaten!
And all coffins are lowered into the ground hole,
to be a hidden.
Oak coffins, durable, in a row.
And we all leaving.
Slavonic people , -
Russians, Belorusians and Ukranians, -
They stay paciently closed to a grave in a cemetery,
They are waiting till
Their Cemetery Workers hide the hole by a soil
To say Their Last "Good Bye!"
To the little small soil hill
Before they all will leaving.
There are crosses above their graves
In a cemeteries
Or planted ancorns in their soil hill,
The Future Oak Trees to grow.
Dubravushka,
My Dear De'Oakkie, Okki, Okkay!
My sweet girl!
You wove Your Head Wreath of Grass,
Oak Leaves in Your Head Ring, Your Wreath,
All Flowers are so Good as You!
- "I love you, Dear Okay! I love you!!
A hoppy brew in a bottle,
The hops are in my mind.
My brain is a little foggy.
I fly! And this is Good!
My beer ! A salty cracker!
And in the evening: more!
The Summer Evening Bonfire
And a beer from the oak keg.
Colored skirts are spinning.
Smiles, eyes. Breasts. And You are!
Your bare white feet like your secret.
Your fingers are there, to count them.
- "Into the Forest! Quickly! Follow me!
The Magic Fern grows there!
It will bloom today to us to find
A magic Red Flower!
This Wizard Magic Night is around us! "
Your red cherry lips,
The cherries are plump, like a dream.
- "We will be the rich, all The Treasures are there,
In the remote and cherished Forests!
On Place where we will watch
The Red Flowers of Forest Ferns Blossoms!"
And you will take off your skirts and blouses,
You are Like A Flower with delicate skin, standing up.
I will take you, You will be mine.
If I will stay or if I will leave:
- "You are Mine!"
- "Okki! Okay? Okay?"
- "Okay!"
If I die in the lands, "Hooray!", screaming:
You will raise a Son from me.
Let's go back to the table, hugging.
We both feel so good, we are okay.
My you, my darling!
I will not forget you, I live.
And if I "play the last one",
In the attack, "Hurrah!" shouting:
You have this silver cross of yours,
On my chest, burying me.
Please, not be a sad,
after me:
Some another man
Will come in your sunrise.
Go with him!
You will blossom again:
Bumblebees are flying
On a summer Meadow Fields.
And they are sitting down
On every flower here.
We will not meet each, -
I am in the battle,
a bloody one,
a bloody one.
Lots of us here, fighters,
Will never returned back.
For us , this our last night,
I will take it to heaven with me.
My Darling, okay, My Darling.
Give me another hug.
I will touch your these naked white boobbies, your tits, your breast,
I will gently squeeze your hills, your breasts.
I will kiss your nipples, your tits, your lips, all you, and eyes,
I will kiss your eyes , your ears, your palms, your white legs,
For you to remember me.
And Our Magic Fern.
Russian women are a malleable:
- War, allways here a war!
They take men to infinity
In the attack, "Hurrah!" shout.
And the seed of men, as in the field,
It will grow in the tummies of women.
And again, the living are running around here.
And again, there are a lot of kids!
And again, some man will say:
- Lady! Follow after me!
We will go to find together, you and me, you and me,
Our Wizard Magic Flower Blossom of The Fern in The Forest!
Or On in a Meadow or On a Field!
September 5th , 2024.
England, UK
By Eanna Inna Balzina-Balzin (Инна Бальзина-Бальзин)
"The Oak in the Oak Grove" (September 5, 2024), a song, a poem
http://stihi.ru/2024/09/05/6442
https://proza.ru/2024/09/05/1554
На видео в Ютюбе коммент 5 сент 2024
https://proza.ru/2024/09/05/1068
http://stihi.ru/2024/09/05/5075
"Дуб в Дубовой Роще", песня, стихи (05.09.2024. Англия)
http://stihi.ru/2024/09/05/5082
https://proza.ru/2024/09/05/1222
© Copyright: Инна Бальзина-Бальзин, 2024
© Copyright: Eanna Inna Balzina-Balzin, 2024
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