Daniel Gimaev

Five brilliant artifacts of a mysterious programmer


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purchase is easy,

      the Bank is not yet stingy in my hand,

      I’ll leave the table-it’s time,

      the heat has started here,

      It’s just not for everyone,

      Run that panther up,

      Rise, fall, no,

      My path will show me the trail,

      This wildcat look,

      I’ll have to harness it, by the way.

      Gait

      Here’s a Sharon Stone walk,

      Though in the courtyard to you the queen,

      The boys also stick around for all sides,

      You’re not going to tap your shoes.

      Don’t fight back, important lady,

      The grooms incite wedges to you,

      But you choose, you won’t get lost,

      You’re being watched from all over the place.

      You’ll be a lady riding a Ferrari,

      Arrange evenings in restaurants,

      The ministers are eager to visit you,

      And you’re walking home from the store alone.

      Mom can I have the dog

      Mom can I have a dog,

      I’ll feed her meat,

      He plays, I’ll wash it,

      I’ll call it a funny nickname.

      Sylvester, come on, follow me,

      You have a new owner,

      A connoisseur of all sorts of suburbs,

      Now, pretty boy, you’re mine.

      If you want, we’ll drive the ball,

      If you want, I’ll treat you to a chicken.

      Don’t be sad, you’re a good friend,

      We will go through time.

      Why, you’re your own breed,

      You don’t honor me, you’re such a prankster,

      Just like me, you’re soaking wet,

      Come on, make a path.

      Tell me how much are the seeds worth

      Tell me, how much are the seeds,

      No, I won’t buy it, I don’t have any money,

      The poet’s whole soul,

      Penny bills,

      I’ll feed them to tick,

      The seed is asking for it.

      I’ll throw them to the pigeons,

      What the dove-colored ones are cooing,

      And then, I’ll take them myself,

      I’ll sell it in layers,

      Societies of Readers,

      Souvenirs of memory.

      Cars

      Porsche, of course, is better,

      Well, and Subaru, – steeper,

      Alfa Romeo-you can see,

      Formula One – fast.

      Maserati-luxury,

      Oka with Niva – to the sides,

      KAMAZ, MAZ – more,

      Lada Sedan – more modest.

      All cars, there are arguments,

      To each his own, alas,

      I love them, because,

      They and the animals are beautiful.

      In short, I can’t stop my pain

      In a word, my pain, I can not calm,

      And do not erase the soot from the heart,

      So why should I stand there again?

      Forgive me for being nice, I’ll tell you.

      Laugh when-all the crows,

      To peck at the sod and olive trees,

      Gathered, at the idleness in the parties,

      Feathers will fly for the funeral.

      After all, stronger than the wind, only gray,

      Wolves, near the ground in the snow snuggled up, alas,

      to treat them with bread from their hands, and loyal,

      Fangs please, only I am harsh.

      Prayer

      Why do I need decay when my soul is not old?

      Why diamonds, when diamonds,

      Size and color, pleases my eyes,

      Lord, so forgive me for my talent.

      That Satan with His most pure rays,

      I got it into my head, as if he was the strongest of all,

      Lord, I’m sorry that the angel of light is nice to me,

      That the raven couldn’t see through the veil.

      Lord, forgive me and save my soul,

      To live as on the outskirts of your village,

      And so as not to punish, for all the blizzard,

      The enemy is only strong when there is a blizzard

      Chess

      Small is bigger than big,

      Like a king more than a king,

      Without pawns, you are like before God,

      Well, and with the elephant, so-Gogol.

      Debut-beginning-of-bad,

      To expect, so it’s a kobold,

      Hard, tense, in a word,

      The enemy of good is not a puncture.

      And pawns are a stringy move,

      Which the miss will take away,

      This is a bun with a layer of butter,

      So that you don’t think you’re knocked up.

      What is your word worth

      What is your word worth,

      And what stands on the vine,

      Can a word be like cloth,

      I’ll point my finger, you’re in the shit,

      You’ll turn, I can’t,

      You’re funny, not harsh,

      There is no work in your word,

      I want to deviate,

      It’s not worth talking about.

      Law

      The law is harsh, and we are idle,

      We’re all getting old, dying,

      We break and come back to life,

      We want to go back, these are,

      But there is a law, he does not hear,

      Arguments and thoughts,

      He has his own calculation for this,

      As if having once sinned,

      Repeat