Listen to me, oh God, you big Lord,
If you ever make me again,
Please, make it so that I won't be
A policeman,
Nor a tsar,
Nor a Gypsy.
Turn me into a big tree.
For hundred years to grow
And then to be cut.
To make dough tray of me.
For hundred years to make dough in me.
Entirely to fall apart from bread.
M.Antic
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