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Today we are talking about passion
And that, I suppose, you already know,
So I prepared for this discussion
A little poem to help it grow;
A discussion better grows
If its beginning is not in prose.
What do you think I’m gonna say next?
There mustn't be a lot of directions;
I'm following a certain text
Which came to exist through mind erections
That bothered me at sleepless nights
When I have thought of human rights.
'Tis one of my strongest passions
To chase lengthy trains of thought,
Quite common among male Russians
Who haven't been nimbly caught
By an attractive snatch
To rot in a perfect match.
The fruits from the tree of knowledge
And those from the tree of life
Can hardly be found in college
And shared with a happy wife;
I sought them in West and East
Like a voracious beast.
This made me a little weird,
But not completely insane;
I grew an enormous beard
To scare everyone who's saying
That men should follow his passion
Within an acceptable fashion.
I know it is not easy
To grasp what I've said:
Minds of most people are busy,
Hearts of most people are dead.
For my art, there is still no perception,
And yet I believe in exception.
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