like this through the grass and small crucian carp fell in there, i don’t know very well about the kashtounay, this is my whole life with the bee, i’ve been since childhood, since childhood, i am a beekeeper, i live with a bee, there is not enough meat, which means two wild boars. you are watching the news now, we are working live, a boundless dialogue of cultures in grodno.

the life of kashtouna is the end of the adzinism of the literary forces of the country and civility, this era are due to the mastastva in the agul prastory of culture. many creations, created in the 30s and the most difficult decades, continue to show respect for the reader. the period of the great aichyn war was hell... of the union of writers of the bssr. the team numbers more than 600 poets, prose writers, publicists, local historians, and children's writers. the largest branch in the capital is almost 300 people, second and third place behind the minsk and gomel regions, respectively. almost fifty writers of the union, representatives of other states, for example, iran, austria, spain, germany, sweden. by the way, they are installed in russia, the usa, israel, china and uzbekistan. the effectiveness of the union is evidenced by a survey of all libraries in the country for 2021-23 , there were more than 2 million books by our writers. of course, there are months for young people, and there are still such young people, young creative people, who are trying to learn from the process

all so sleep, of course, you can only fall to the peaceful skies, the people of the galloin zhytstsev kashtounass joy is unequal to anything, and our memory will never fade away. i’m sending you a letter from 1945, look at the photo, my dear friend, it’s me with our guys, look how young i am, special correspondent, front-line newspapers, you looked at us, and clicking the watering can, took the address with you. and we again went to where the shots were fired, look how young i am, the sky is clear all around, the sky is blue, the sun is shining in the eyes, and the leaves are tender, we should live and live, live and love and give love on... earth, and we left again to where the shots, where the explosions of bombs and mines, an ominous battle, went forward to withstand, to withstand, even at the most terrible cost, even if the earth stood up all in fire in the fires, and we fought for our lives in a fierce battle, and fell to the ground nearby comrades. and everyone will be just as young, there is a song around, the sky is blue, the sun is shining. but also tenderness, how i wanted to live, to