Почитай старших [Pochitay starshih] [English translation]

"No, I've never been anyone's coeval,

Such fame is not for me.

Oh, how I hate some samenamer.

That wasn't me, that was somebody else." 1

There are voices in my head.

They appeared there silently, like moon craters.

But they argue loudly

And it often ends with brawls.

They howl, cracking and shaking,

Like a phonograph needle.

They have a lot in common,

But I'm yet to hear two identical.

Sometimes I quote them.

They often drop

Premade bars too.

They're in every cell of mine, in every atom of mine.

It's a piece of good news.

Their experience protects me,

Like a tournament armor protects a knight.

Got a shoulder of a giant under each of my feet2.

Like an oyster, I look at the world from their shells3

To honor them

My song is

Like an every-hour St. Mary's Trumpet Call from Krakov's church.

New spurs are piercing the flesh,

Pegasus is galloping, tired.

Before you jabber -

(Pay an hommage/read) to the elder ones.

(Pay an hommage/read) to the elder ones.

Experience

Matters, when the speed of the flow rips your attic,

When you're blown the hell away.

Not for an empty scrolling, take your gadget.

Eyes of the memes, go read some classics,

(Pay an hommage/read) to the elder ones.

"On a scales of a tin fish

I read the calls of the new lips.

And you,

Could you play

A nocturne

On a downpipe flute?"4

Poetry is like radium mining:

You mine one gram for years,

For a single word you waste

Thousands of tons of a word ore5.

Someone yells: "Those bars are stolen!

Shame on the lyrical castrate!"

And someone will like

The decoration of this majestic quote.

Someone won't even see nor seam,

Nor pieces.

Someone won't even get it:

"Stop babbling! Let's rock!"

The culture is dissolved into a mold

And a linden honey6, stencils and collages.

I use everything I find for my beat.

I'm a spender of priceless words.5

And a marauder. I'm the poshest in USSR.

Changed my lapti for a lacquered shoes7

All the "Angleterre"8

Is rocked - it's me writing a track.

I flow in my room

Feat Yesenin's ghost.

Flor, walls, and ceiling

Are resonating.

I run my hand over the vinyl, as if it was an Ouija board.

And I'll stop the old one,

When I see a good sample.

And I'll summon a spirit

To talk to them about

How our urban hell faded through the century.

Is our Gomorra look like their Sodom,

Or I'm a newbie.

How would I sound there with my language,

Like a savage, or like a Messiah?

I'll drown in melted ages,

Screaming with their voices like a second Terminator.

Quotes open, I quote again:

"I like it when the stones of abuse

Fly towards me, like a hail of growling storm.

It only makes me hold tighter

To my wawing curls"9

(Pay an hommage/read) to the elder ones.

Experience

Matters, when the speed of the flow rips your attic,

When you're blown the hell away.

Not for an empty scrolling, take your gadget.

Eyes of the memes, go read some classics,

(Pay an hommage/read) to the elder ones.

1. Mandelstamm2. Newton, indirect quote3. Mayakovsky, indirect quote4. Mayakovsky5. a. b. Mayakovsky, direct quote6. Letov, direct quote7. Refren to Sergey Ysesnin's biography8. A St. Petersburg hotel, where the body of Sergey Yesenin was found9. Yesenin

• Artist:Noize MC