I am a foreigner in my native land.
I am a stranger among my own people.
My outlandish look betrays my origin.
My tongue speaks with ancient accent.
I wonder often why did my ancestor
come to this weird country
with queer customs
to drink fiery water
and inhale intoxicating smoke,
where dirtiness of mind is praised
and purity of life is in disdain.
where national feelings and pride of language
tear the unity of love apart
and fake paradise looks like slavish work
before the benevolent benefactors.
Here degrading morale is simple justification
of immorality and beautiful curtain over evildoers.
Poetry and Photography by Igor Marinovsky