OK, that was futile trying to write in Belarusian and expecting a useful comment, so I did an English only poem for Belarus. Translate at your own risk.

The Tractor Miracle of Minsk

I know someone on the police force.
He used to be a friend in discourse
but my friend, Stanislav, is losing his mind.

He’s in the midst of a dilemma:
loyalty to an oath and club, or
keeping old friendships intact.

I see I must leave before
he becomes a Zombie and
tortures every orator, but

Join the celebration dear patriots!
Let us apply to the Vatican immediately
to make Lukashenko a Saint forgot

Yes, indeed, the two miracles required
have been etched into a document
on a giant starchy potato augmented

Witnessed and attested:
all the tractors in Minsk
on the factory floor jinxed
ran away from the workers, and

they drove themselves across Lithuania
and into the Baltic Sea with a splash
heard around the world, pliant
as they played “Changes”

Stanislav told me I’m about to be arrested
and I should flee to Lithuania, but unfed
I had to make potato pancakes first.
I had a recipe from Tikhanovskaya.

I’ll miss the harvest of the grain and of the ballots.
For now we

honk his glory with the snout of our cars!
Everyone is astounded by the supernatural:
The greatest grain harvest ever was achieved when
opposition ballots were buried in the ground as seed.

Burned votes are a fine ash for plants to grow
out of season, out of reason and a scarecrow.

Please for a change. Make him a Saint
and invite him out of the country to
visit the Vatican forever.
We’ll give him a new tractor.

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