, but what a quinoa now and what snowdrifts are the wilderness of wastelands the bird ringing of komarin's song. you are such a love though resurrect and dokalia. love, even resurrect eternity gloomy waist, where there are no tears, no thunderstorms, no suffering from. peace be with you my village, rest, at least. laughter and crying have gone nowhere. but such and such will snowdrift, die, such love has risen the way. not such a love perhaps the winter does not fly, if only it were not, we will survive the longing and this only did not spare the shoes. yes, so that we can be. tomorrow will not be worse than yesterday, pulling remane tighter will not come. this time will come to prepare a cart for beauties in winter. put it on the axis and with all this , it's completely here, it's about life like the old telecom bad weather, our sun will warm the region, let's add it to the house. now i'm not a seasoned crop. a closet of sacks in a fence in tver, the trouble is our bread, the second steel potato is nonsense, like the old new year russians, my cossack dear, only you and the selection of lo