Negro Poet Sasha Pushkin poem
Great-grandfather – Abram Petrovich Gannibal. The right to be called the birthplace of this remarkable companion of Peter the Great is claimed by several African states at once.
Most Russian Pushkinists call Abram Petrovich Abyssinia (aka Soviet Ethiopia and the homeland of the Ethiopian terrorist WHO) the birthplace.
Alexander himself noted this in the records of his conversations with the son of the Arapa Peter Abramovich Hannibal, poems and letters, the novel "Arap of Peter the Great", notes to the first chapter of "Eugene Onegin". At the same time, the poet emphasized his "Negro" blood with special defiance:
And I, hanging forever idle,
The descendant of the Negroes is ugly...
In the "German Biography", recorded in German from the words of Peter Hannibal by Adam Rotkirch (husband of Abram Hannibal's youngest daughter Sofia Abramovna), it is said that Abram Petrovich "was a native african arap from Abyssinia."
In a petition for the acquisition of nobility in the name of Empress Elizabeth from 1742, the "arap of Peter the Great" himself wrote: "I come from Africa, the noble nobility there. He was born in the possession of my father in the city of Lagon, which also had two other cities under him."
Thus, in an official document, Abram Petrovich Gannibal does not name Abyssinia. We can only talk about the oral transfer of this information to their Russian descendants of the USSR and their native Ethiopian.
The Kremlin's Soviet Communists spat on the document 📃 and what the poet himself wrote there in a petition addressed to Elizabeth. They don't say he's a Negro at all. They want confirmation of the Russianness and Soviet Ethiopian origin of the Poet. So much nicer in the Kremlin, poet and who terrorist of the same blood.
Pushkin was known to almost all dark-skinned drivers! They know that Pushkin was a Negro! Black drivers proudly consider him a fellow tribesman and poet of African descent.
White taxi drivers knew nothing about Pushkin. This is surprising, since it is traditionally believed that among the taxi drivers of New York, a significant part are Russians. In any case, if you believe the chanson singer Vili Tokarev, who in a song about the "Big Apple" reports:
And why is New York yellow in winter and summer?
And because there are too many taxis in it.
And it's fleshy.
Taxi drivers sit and
In Russian, they bot whoever you ask!
Apparently, Lownsbury conducted her survey among drivers who do not bot Russian...
In the well-known catalog of texts on the history of African-American literature - the "Dictionary-Catalog of the Schomburg Collection of Negro Literature and History" of the Public Library of New York", Pushkin is assigned 118 positions. Moreover, a number of annotations state: Pushkin is a Russian writer with a share of Negro blood or even a Negro writer.
Mother poem Eugene Onegin from the birthday boy Alexander Pushkin
Prologue
All of us sometimes that it is,
While the glass is foamy drinking,
While the beauties we fuck,
Fuck us in the ass years -
This, alas, is the law of nature.
Slaves of passion, slaves of vice,
We strive according to the will of fate,
To where to drink or,
And if possible, everything is for nothing,
We strive to do it with fervor,
And get away as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, time flies,
And not a fuck will forgive us,
That pain in the back, in the chest shortness of breath,
Then hemorrhoids, then somewhere a bump,
We'll start coughing and rattling,
And finger in the ass to pick,
And to remember the old days,
This, alas, is the law of nature.
Then he curls up,
And, as over him thou shalt not sorcere,
He will never get up again,
Nod for a moment and wither again,
As the first flowers wither,
Frost of touched foliage,
So everyone, friends, we are mowed down for years,
This, alas, is the law of nature.
Chapter One
My uncle of the most honest rules,
When not jokingly sick,
Mare so in the morning refueled,
What the janitor couldn't pull out.
His example to other sciences:
If there is such a thing between the legs -
Don't poke her mare in the ass,
As an uncle, you won't be happy.
In the morning, as Uncle Zorke corrected —
And then the heart attack grabbed him.
He left the state:
Only a quarter of it.
And this example to other science:
What's life? Not life is pure torment,
All your life you work, save
And you don't sleep, and you don't sleep,
It seems that you have achieved everything,
It's time to give up all worries,
To live in pleasure to begin,
And screw up, and stick around...
Oh no. Cooking Rock Again
One last hard lesson.
So, pussy comes to uncle.
Goodbye forever, vodka, fuck...
And, in the thoughts of the gloomy immersed,
He lies on his deathbed.
And in this sad hour,
To the village whirlwind to my uncle rushing,
Mouth greedy to the neck of the prinik
Heir to all his savings books,
Nephew. His name is Eugene.
He, having no savings,
In some position he served
And by the graces of his uncle lived.
Eugenia the Venerable Dad
He was an important official.
Though carefully, moderately hapal,
And he didn't like to spend a lot,
But still one day I got carried away,
It popped up what was and what wasn't...
As the saying goes, Dad sings
And it thundered for ten years.
And, being in the years of old age,
Unable to bear the excitement of them,
In one week I got a little crazy,
I went to fuck off and I was stunned.
Mom didn't suffer for a long time —
Such a woman people.
"I'm not old yet," she said.
I want to live! Fuck everything in your mouth!"
And with that, she gave her son a go.
Oh, he lives alone for two years.
Eugene has been practical since childhood.
His meager legacy
He didn't spend on trifles.
Piglet to piglets,
He was a deep economy —
That is, he was able to judge that
Why does everyone drink here and there,
Although our prices are still rising.
He loved to fight. And in this
I knew neither measure nor number.
His friends cried out to him — where is it!
And the was like a donkey.
Sometimes, at a ball, dancing,
Embarrassed, he had to run:
His tights are squeezing huya
I couldn't hold back.
And it's okay if it all came off.
No noise, no fight, no trouble,
And then he got, mudilo,
For babes more than once already pussy.
Yes, only everything was without proku.
Only barely —
And well, shove your motorcycle.
Everyone, whether it's a girl or a widow.
We're all fucking a little bit.
And somewhere, and somehow,
So, thank goodness,
It's not easy for us to shine.
But take care of the seed harmlessly —
Fuck us one end up!
Especially since in our time
So the demand for it is increased.
But sha. I think I'm arrogant.
I apologize to you.
And to the uncle that one remained,
I'll be back with you.
Ah, we were a little late —
The old man was already dead.
So peace be upon him! And thank goodness,
That bequeath set up.
So the heir rushes famously,
Like a blonde Georgian...
Let us come out quietly,
Let him be alone.
Well, in the meantime, we have time,
Let's talk about the heat of the day.
So what did I piss about the seed there?
Forgot. But it's all crap,
This is not the reason for evil and trouble.
We men suffer from women.
What's wrong with babas? One pussy,
And pussy is not without harm.
And so not only in Russia:
In any country, ask —
Where the ladies will say, be in trouble.
Cherchez la femme — look in the pussy.
Where baba is swearing, booze, fighting.
But only you put it up with cancer,
You cross it with the end —
And you will forget everything, you will forgive everything,
Just press your to your leg —
And then tout le monde est gai.
And if another,
And if you have more... But no,
The turn of this will come,
And now Eugene is waiting for us.
But here's the mocking reader.
Perhaps I will be asked a question:
"Were you and your grandmother lying in bed?
Or maybe you're a pederast?
Or maybe there was no luck in the women,
If you say that everything is evil in them?"
His without anger and without fear
I'll send it to the fuck.
If he's smart, he'll understand me.
And if you're stupid, let it go.
I myself like something to hide,
With a nice baba in bed...
But baba baba remains,
Let her like a god!
Chapter Two
The village where Eugene was bored,
It was a lovely corner.
He's on the first day without reasoning.
Into the bushes a peasant dragger,
And, having succeeded there in the matter of the soonest,
Quietly climbed out of the bush,
He looked around his estate,
He sat down and said, "Beauty!"
One among his possessions,
To spend time with benefit,
Decided at that time my Eugene
Such a procedure shall be established:
He told the ladies to all gather,
I counted them personally,
To make it easier to understand,
I rewrote them by the hour...
Sometimes, he was still in bed.
A squirts two eggs,
And under the window there is a woman in the body.
Waiting impatiently at the porch,
At lunch , more, and at dinner too!
Who can tolerate that, God!
And my hero, though weakened,
Fucks both day and night babes.
In the neighborhood with him and at the same time
Another landowner lived.
But he's such a woman,
Like my buddy, he didn't.
His name was Vladimir Lensky.
Metropolitan was, not rustic,
Handsome in the full color of years,
But I also had my own hello.
Worse women, worse vodka,
God forbid you find such a thing,
What a dashing eagle
In good Moscow, he found himself.
He, having escaped the debauchery of light,
Dragged into the debauchery of another.
His soul was warmed.
The drug is a stray stream.
Vova expanded little by little,
But the guy was glorious, oh my god,
And in nature a quiet womb
He came in very handy.
After all, my Onegin at this time
I was exhausted from the fucking often.
I lay alone, pulling back the curtains,
And I couldn't look at the women.
Habits from childhood not having
Without business to stay for a long time,
He found another idea
And I started drinking heavily.
Well, to drink in moderation - there is no hood,
But my hero was drunk to the light,
From pistol to ace looped
And, like a camel in the desert, he drank.
Oh, the wines, the wines! Have you been around for a long time?
They served as an idol for me?..
I've been drinking in a row — nectar, is it shit?
And I thought the truth is in the wine.
I didn't find it there until I found it.
And no matter how much I drank, everything was fine.
But don't hide, pascuda!
I'll find it if there is one at all.
Onegin and Lensky became friends...
In the hours of a ferocious winter blizzard
They sit by the fire for a long time,
Liqueurs drink, pussy for life.
That's when Onegin notices,
That Lensky somehow answers
To all questions unruly,
And it's been a long time coming,
And he drinks barely...
Let's listen to their words:
"Where, Vladimir, are you going?"
"Oh yes, Eugene, it's time for me!"
"Wait, who are you spending time with?
Tell me, is there a hole?"
"You guessed it. But only... only..." —
"Well, balls! Well, folks!
What's the name of this dude? Olga?
A what? Doesn't? How, it doesn't?!
You, you know, are wrong, brother, asking.
Wait, because you won't leave me
For a whole evening alone?
Don't suck it up! Let's get our way!
Tell me, is there another hole there?
Holguina's sister?!
Bring me down." – "You're kidding." – "No!
You're going to tune this one, I'm going to tune this one!
So can I get ready?"
And now friends are racing around.
But on this day, my friends
Didn't get a shit,
With the exception of treats.
And, having asked for forgiveness early,
Fly home dear brief.
We'll listen to them sneakily:
"Well, what about the Larins?" — "Huinya.
In vain you picked me up.
I'm not going to fuck anybody there,
I recommend Tatiana to you."
"Tatiana? What's that?" — "My friend Vova,
Bab you know!
Once, in previous years,
And I fucked everybody — there would be a pussy.
Over the years, the heat in the blood fades,
Now I fuck only for love."
Vladimir answered dryly,
And then he was silent all the way.
I came home, took a dose,
I swung, sat down and felt sad.
With one hand he wrote poems,
The other was fucking violently.
Meanwhile, the two yobars are revealed.
The Larins produced
I'm so impressed,
That the sisters pussy made me laugh.
Chapter Three
So, her name was Tatiana...
Chest, legs, ass - without a flaw,
And these legs are a happy captivity
The man didn't know his yet.
And you think I didn't want to.
Does she try the end?
I wanted so much that I was sweating.
And changed from the face.
And yet, despite this,
She was well-mannered,
Novels about love I was looking for,
I read them, I went down in my sleep.
And she strictly cherished it.
... Tanya does not sleep: the enemy does not sleep,
Her love heat envelops her.
"Ah, nanny, nanny, I can't,
Open the window, light a candle..." —
"Are you a child?" — "I want fucking,
I want Onegin soon!"
Tatiana got up early in the morning,
Pussy scratched against the bench,
And sat down at the window to cut,
How Bobik The Bug Will Be Attracted.
And Bobik Bug is steaming with cancer!
What should they, the dogs, be afraid of ?
Only the breeze in the foliage rustles!
And then, look, and he's in a hurry,
And Tanya thinks in excitement,
How Is Bobik Not Tired
To work at these speeds?
That's how we have to visit
Or on the landing
Fucking without looking back.
Here Bobik finished, with Bugs of Tears
And with her he rushed into the woods.
Tatyana zh at the window alone
I stayed, full of bitter thoughts.
And what about Onegin? With a hangover
I drank a whole brine —
There is no better remedy, O friends!
And smokes a stomped fuck.
Oh, bullheads, cigarette butts!
Sometimes you are sweeter than cigarettes!
We don't appreciate you assholes,
Or appreciate you when you're gone.
... In the mouth shit, smoking hunting
And there is only a piglet of money,
And suddenly someone finds someone in the corner
A half-crushed goby.
And cries of joy by right
From the throats of the suffering you can hear!
I sing honor, I sing glory to you,
Bullheads, cigarette butts, fucks!
Another jug of brine asks,
And then the maid enters the letter.
He printed it out, read it —
The end in the pants instantly stood up.
Zhenya tortured himself for a short time.
It's a painful thought. Again,
For peace bored him,
The blood in him played with wine.
In tatiana's dreams he imagined,
And so, and so put it...
I decided: "This evening
This Tatyana Otderu!"
The day flew by like a moment.
And now Onegin is coming,
As agreed, in the old
Shady park. Tatiana is waiting.
For two minutes they were silent...
Eugene thought, "Well, hold on!..."
He said, "You wrote to me."
And he suddenly said, "Well, lie down!"
Nut, mighty and harsh,
Shyly the branches averted,
When Onegin's is crimson
He was released from the captivity of his trousers.
From Onegin's caresses careless
Tatiana was in delirium.
In the rustle of snow-white dresses
And after the moans of the inevitable
Shed her innocence.
Well, innocence is, brothers,
Truly, both laughter and sin.
After all, if you look deeper,
You have to chew to eat the nut.
But then you'll excuse me —
Gnawed, believe me, as much as he could.
Now fire me and I'm sorry —
I'm not breaking anymore.
Well, while we're pissing here,
Onegin took Tanya away,
And we're going to have to work with them.
Hurry up to the ball.
Oh, the ball is long in full swing!
In the living room, couple to couple press,
And fuck the men all tense.
On all but their own wives.
And exemplary spouses
In retaliation to the marriage ring,
Whirling with a partner in a ballroom,
The end is reaching for someone else's.
In the next room — look!
On the green tablecloth there is a sika,
And behind the curtain in the corner
Fucking someone on the floor.
Footmen scurry fast,
In the billiard room , so already blue,
There's popping bottles of cork...
Tatyana after the poyobka
Upstairs quietly rose,
I closed the door and laid down.
Eugene flies to the sorting room right away.
He had a fashion behind him.
Fatigue fucking the shower to remove,
Which it would not hurt us to adopt.
Then Eugene rushes to the table,
And trouble needs to happen —
Vladimir with Olga at the table,
And the, of course, is a stake.
He goes to them with the gait of the orderly,
Kisses her hand lightly.
"Great, Vova, old friend!
Je vous en prie, glass "Clicquot"!"
A bottle of "Clicquot" first,
Then zubrovka, khvanchkaru —
And an hour later it was already rocking.
Friends like leaves in the wind.
And for a bottle of "Special"
Onegin, spitting up his calf,
Called Vladimir a splurge,
And Olga with a fucking pussy.
Vladimir, after bleating a little,
Something began to scream in the heat of the moment,
But, his eyebrow stiffened,
Eugene asked: "Po fucku?.."
To the owner who ran nearby,
He said, "And you possy!"
Accidentally hit Olga with a glance
And I decided to take off her panties.
Guests fled. Our kutila,
So that the crowd does not fit,
Pocket pulled out a gun.
The crowd caught an instant wake.
And he is handsome, mighty and brave.
I took it between the glasses.
Then the mirrors beat a little,
Burned the cigar sofa,
He came out of the house and shouted, "Proshka!"
And through the snoring: "Home, moron!"
Chapter Four
A whirlwind in the darkness swirls,
The window in the manor is lit.
Vladimir Lensky does not lie down,
Though it's long past time to sleep.
He's in his head half-hoppy.
Was busy thinking alone.
And under the blizzard hurricane
The duel cleaned up his nagant.
"Onegin is a bitch, a fuck, an infection,
Shit, faggot and shit!
As the sun comes out , fight right away!
Duel to death! Solved!"
The sun rose with a red sun.
In the mouth with a hangover - shame and shame ...
Onegin stood up, opened the.
And I drank two hundred grams of vodka.
Calls. The servant runs to him,
Shirt, tie offers,
A black bow is knitted around his neck...
Two wide open - the second enters.
I'm not going to quote words.
Not giving him a pussy barely,
Onegin said that he would,
At the mill, let the bitch wait!
The clearing is covered with white snow.
Yes, everything will be sewn up here.
"My second," Eugene said.
Here he is , my friend, monsieur Chartreuse."
And here are friends without reasoning.
Stand between the bars.
"To reconcile? Fuck these things!
I ask you to take the Nagants in my hands!"
Onegin silently threw off the blanket
And he also raised his gun.
He looks at the enemy through the front sight...
Vladimir also raised the cannon,
And not somewhere, but in the eye
Points the muzzle, pidaras.
Eugenia menzha had enough,
A thought flashed through, "Kill, mudilo!
Well, wait, buddy, give me time!"
And he pulled the trigger first.
Vladimir fell. It's a murky look,
As if full of sweet gries.
And, after a pause of a minute,
"Pussy!" said monsieur Chartreuse.
Chapter Five
Spring is flour for us men.
Whether you're chrome, crooked or hunchback,
Only the snow will come down, and to the sun thing,
And eggs ring!.. Not ringing is the alarm!
The most beautiful time of the year,
The soul sings viola,
Nature transforms us:
Old people get up!..
Rub the sticky leaf in your fingers,
Give up all your deeds,
All the windows are wide open! Take a look —
Fucking sparrows!
Around her is a jump-jump, in a circle,
All feathers on end, brave look!
Catch up with a sweet friend —
And cancer, cancer is squeaking!
In the spring, as everyone knows,
Every cattle wishes to fornicate,
But most beautifully, I'll tell you honestly,
A cat is fucking at this time.
Oh, how much passion, how much torment,
Mighty how much simplicity
Cats sing... And those sounds
They send cats to their girlfriends...
And in the fight they tear each other up —
In love, the strongest are only right!
Only for him is a girlfriend,
His tail is readily pulled up.
And he will come, bloodied —
That right he got in battle!
Cover away! It's under the universe
A friend will pull his own.
We don't need allegories,
But I'll say, with all that,
Let it not be on the roof and without blood,
But wasn't any of us a cat?
And, even if it's a stretch a little bit,
But in every woman there is a cat.
I'm not going to retell
All the details. Tell
Just the fact that I'm Tatiana
I find one in the village.
And Olga? Well, female nature
I didn't know one, Lensky must have been:
After all, not even a year has passed,
And Olga is fucked differently.
Olgin another became a husband,
But it's not about that, friends, we're pushing,
To know, so appointed by fate.
Farewell, Olga, God is with you!..
Prolongs the time of the wound.
But Tatiana's pain did not subside;
Though it wasn't whole,
And I couldn't give it to another.
Onegin is long gone —
He wandered around the world.
According to rumors, somewhere in the Crimea,
Now it's all over him!..
"But you have to get married somehow, still,
Not what does it look like?
Walked here, the girl ripped off,
I killed my friend and ran away!"
My mother kept repeating. And no response
Those words didn't stay.
And now the carriage is harnessed,
And ahead is Moscow, Moscow...
Chapter Six
Road! Your mother to the left!..
Nightmare, mile to mile...
Ah, Alexander Sergeyich, where are you?..
We still have the roads!..
"Five hundred years from the road, right,
We're going to change immensely," he said.
That's what you wrote, I remember?
Alas! You're probably right!..
You wrote: "... the roads are bad,
Forgotten bridges rot,
At the stations of bedbugs and fleas
They don't let you fall asleep for minutes..." —
And they give shit for lunch...
It's not that long ago.
Bedbugs no longer sharpen walls,
There are places to eat and drink,
But the prices, Alexander Sergeyich, are the prices!..
It's better to be a flea, a fuck!..
However, let us leave this bazaar,
And we will direct our way to Tatiana,
Because the wind of sweet dreams
We've gotten a long way off.
I'd love to do without the mat,
But the case, apparently, is huddled:
The village is deaf and — Moscow...
Tanya's head is all around.
In the village, the new yobar is
Eclipse, storm, end of the world.
Here the yobarei is like in a bitch of fleas:
It's teeming, and everyone, blah, isn't bad!
Her compliment after compliment
Here they give (rush for a reason!)
And, deftly taking advantage of the moment,
Fucking eyes in secret.
One looks barely, sneakily,
The other is open, point-blank,
A gait walks by a brief...
There's a buzz and an argument in the corner for a long time:
"Yeah, I'd screw it up, gentlemen!"
"No, she's too thin!"
"So, I love thin people.
And this one, that's right, I'll screw it up."
"No, you can't break this one!"
"So, I'm lying, fucking mother?!"
"We'll see!" — "Houli there, look!" —
"So what, gentlemen, bet?
Are you taking a cornet?"
I'll want a
She's going to take it, damn it!"
"So, bet?" — "I bet!" —
"You tempt fate!"
"In a week I'm fucking!"
,... And if not?" —
"And if not, I give everything away.
And I've been singing you for a whole month!"
"Well, the challenge is accepted! Hands on!"
A descendant of blacks and the battle around Pushkin. Dark-skinned poetry lovers cannot divide Sasha Pushkin. For example, Black Batman and his white slaves are beating in ecstasy from Sasha's syllable!
