i fell asleep at the age of 75 to dear campuser uladzimir budnik.ity? well, what can we call, of course, a song. of course, a song in the distance. smelling like a garden, i went everywhere and went as far as packing i’ve grown old and i don’t know how i’m signing , he was shooting with me, you’re so harsh, you’re not circling the galava, cultivating the brew. what will i say to matulya, as in the late afternoon, i will stare in front of her, caressing the formidable one, what will i say, i will snatch up the gift of that oak tree, i took it from the hut, like the varovs, i went, came here, and even started to see the folder. and i don’t know how i was dying for myself, and not for being with me, because they are so harsh, not swirling galavas, smelling of varova, not swirling galavas, smelling of varova. a dew, on a clear night, my eyes looked like magic. i have glaring, twinkling eyes, almost pesky, fast and howling, eternally calm, sonorous, melodious, as the dogs walked towards me. ali saw the harvest, the cages of my southern joyful songs were