I was both weak and vulnerable, trembling with my whole being,
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He bled with his sick, tormented gut, -
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And, as if in a vulgar potpourri, a huge forehead appeared in the door
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And lit up from within with healthy evil.
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But the hand twitched imperiously: "Lie facing the wall!" |
—
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And so they began to knead my sides on the sticky trestle bed.
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And the most important - sat down at the table, sighed wildly
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And he brought something on me, similar to a "case".
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And he brought something on me, similar to a "case".
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Here, in the tenacious and thin fingers, the Adam's apple twitched funny,
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They pressed in the groin, then under the belly, on the poor fellow's liver.
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When they pressed under the ribs - how my insides throbbed!
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And the pen spit blood into innocent paper.
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In half delirium, in half heat stripped naked, -
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In the corner, an old hag was preparing a needle, -
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And from the roots of the hair to the toes, horror weaved through the body:
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What if they put him to sleep with an injection so that the sleepy one breaks?!
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What if they put him to sleep with an injection so that the sleepy one breaks?!
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He, working on my stomach, squeezed my skull, and then
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He pulled my forearms with a tourniquet and the blood flow was interrupted.
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I used to squeal, but fell silent, - dry lips to the castle, - |
And he groaned, grimaced, wet, wrote and rejoiced.
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He went into a rage - a familiar rage - but I how to yell:
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“What are you writing? |
Well, show me the secret mura!..”
|
Assistant - a former psychopath - tied my wrists, -
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Dimmed, laid out in a row, the instruments of passion.
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Dimmed, laid out in a row, the instruments of passion.
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I rub and beat, and my temper is cool, I can - peddling, I can - hype, -
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But here they will humble, but here they will take away - I bow and miss.
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I'm lying naked as a falcon, and the main one - sniffing and sniffing at the table -
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Everyone writes something in the protocol, although I do not answer.
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No, you need to save your strength, otherwise you are weak, tired, -
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After all, soon the heels will burn, so that I laugh,
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I keep on the nerve, on the alert, but I feel disgusting, -
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They put an intestine down my throat - I spat it back out.
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They put an intestine down my throat - I spat it back out.
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I am taken in a vise, I am taken in pincers - they crawl on me, they crawl on me,
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Everyone wants to call, find out, everyone tries by touch.
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Not even five minutes will pass here, when the soul is taken out, crushed,
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Everything will be defiled, torn, squeezed and rinsed.
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“Breathe, breathe deeply through your mouth! |
Yes, breathe out - you will die! |
“Exhale here - then it’s unlikely that you will even breathe!”
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With all my parched mouth, I bare my teeth: “Well, order!
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The number won’t work with me, comrades-guys!”
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The number will not work with me, comrades-guys!"
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They turned off the light and turned on the gas, some kind of board lit up, -
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And pus splashed from the eyes, and the trachea gurgled.
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And he went berserk, went into ecstasy, for some reason they dragged the basin ...
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I saw it once - a film as a trophy.
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They come to me from behind and give me an injection...
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"Inject, you sons of bitches, but give the protocol!"
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I even got down on my knees, I pressed my forehead to the pelvis;
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I demanded and threatened, pleaded and humiliated myself.
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I demanded and threatened, pleaded and humiliated myself.
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But they tightened the tourniquet, I see there - they are burning the spirit lamp,
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All the red devil is waiting with a hair whip.
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Where, where, and then they will take their own! |
And I guess, old jester:
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When is the red-hot rod - now or later?
|
The Sabbat was hot and bald, the sweat poured hot, -
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There was a ringing - and the raven sat on the white shoulder.
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And the raven shouted: "Nevermore!" |
- he is agile and quick, -
|
Reminds me: a torture chamber opens right into the morgue.
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Reminds me: a torture chamber opens right into the morgue. |
I weakly raise my tail, although for them I am stupid and simple:
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"Hey! |
You will have to answer for your biased interrogation!
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You, as you are called by name, have returned to the old days!
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But the interrogation protocol must be given to us!”
|
And I mow over my shoulder at that scribble:
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“I won’t sign this for you until I read it!”
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Someone's yellow back answered me impassively:
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"But your signature is not needed - everything is clear to us without it."
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"But your signature is not needed - everything is clear to us without it."
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"Sister, dear, do not be afraid - I will not be silent, I will not wipe myself,
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I'll get off the protocol when I meet with a lawyer!
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I didn’t say anything to them, I didn’t show them to anyone, -
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Tell everyone I knew: I remained their brother!”
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He said, drawing a line: "Read, they say, and cool down!"
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I dug into that scribbling, and there is only Latin ...
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There are circles in the eyes, zeros in the brain, damned fear, disappear:
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They just took a medical history!
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They just took a medical history! |