I have not done much in my life ...
The second Rasputin, alas, did not.
I did not build houses, did not plow, did not sow.
About you, Angela, dreamed.

I decided to write you a letter about it,
Although I do not even know the language ...
Fly my letter with greetings
From the Russian simple peasant.

Yesterday sat all evening at the screen ...
Came to indescribable delight,
When I saw you ... That was the artist Stoyanov.
I almost died, damn fucking in the morgue.

Recently, my friends told me
What do you really dryundseksig years
Most likely, they lied.
I would not say Zeen Your Portrait

I write das brief, mein liben frau.
Mine Gott! Oh, how I love you!
My whole life without you is terrible mourning
On the meeting with you, I pray the fate.

You live so far away from me
But for love there are no obstacles now.
I'm ready to fly to meet you
So you made me a blowjob.

You have such a sexy figure
And I hope Donner Wetter's hair, not a wig.
I think you're not stupid in life,
And I, their bin, is not an old man at all.

I know what you have there in the Bundestag
Every orator is obliged to be der mann,
But if I drink three liters of braga,
That word I do not climb into your pocket.

When tsu bet we stifle down
(In Russian, it seems to be in bed-
I promise: with orgasm even -
For two hours from you do not take out!

I will ride you on the carousel
I will sing songs before bedtime.
For you your divine trills
I will perform no worse than a nightingale.

I write a letter to di heyte (now),
And tomorrow, if I sober up, I will write to you again.
How hard I am without you, mine bloom, I suffer here!
Tsu end! Alles Drinken for love!