Key

I had a room with a separate entrance,
I was single and lived alone.
Whenever I was hunting,
In this room acquaintances drove.
My comrades lived with teschami
And with women like these tesch -
Too fat, too skinny,
Fatigue, common as rain.
Every year aging for a year,
Giving birth to children (sons and daughters)
Wives became symbols of the hardships,
Statue of shortages and queues.
My companions loved their wives.
They inquired more and more often:
- What do not you get married? Oh, you, dude!
What do you know about family happiness?
My companions did not like women.
They liked the young girl with her hands,
With eyes, in which, once absorbed,
Falling, falling like a stone.
And I was squeamish (you, of course, remember)
But I do not ask stupid questions.
I just gave them a key to the room.
They asked, and I - gave.