anatoly yurievich well, you, our life does not consist only from white stripes, and this year in february poet of dagestan magomed akhmedov in social networks you published. ah, a poignant poem in memory of him. read to us. they wrote literally 20 minutes after we knew that he was sick. he's still the last time. and the soul screams all the way. where are you with your magicians forever? you wrapped it in it and repeated it. are you waiting for the city to shelter you forever? where are you magomed to all friends who did almost like khayyam was the forerunner of rasul mahmud you drank friends will wait didn't listen, you where magomed just don't put me in response somewhere crying well waved and tears will crawl on the glass, because from ailments west under weightless magomed left in the front row. well, i'm still waiting for the liners. his conclusion is piercing and in this poem is called the heir to the tradition of gumilyov to put in one row and was very fond of being a deeply national avar poet. he was very fond of the russian classic. he also idolized gumilyov, or especially lermon