here the hell of a hut melted away, there were workers, an old hut, gontu slaves, gontu.ned, and then they said that the warehouses of these pilots were in bulk. who knows, magchyma, cali b i don’t know how to live, yakub kolas would have grown up completely different, but here he is a slave of his first generations and learned martyrs. and here there was a happy life, and there was plenty of roses, everything bloomed, it faded, because the creative force was alive here. dsnu. budzila, khlyavets staў poўnіtsa to the fruits, the threshing floor fell over the years, and the extra penny stavў vadzіstsa, there was something that was stolen, and there was a paradox in the house, that is, i lived here, it’s already good, good, live in peace, but it was too late to move on from albodze. i so often changed months of cruelty because of my father’s father kolas, being a forester, mikhas kazimiravich was good at getting out her abavyazka, but the service was heavy and the only downside was the shepherd crossings. yakub kolas lived here from 1890 to 1902, an unforgettable moment. den