faith, i see we’ve got gray heads, we’re rich. the front on the shoulders flashed, flying, sweeping, lusty and jumping like in a dream, varashyla to the top of the budzenam on the canoe, so, and what did you try, oh, hitler is coming out closer to us, to whom hitler is closer, that yago and tsalue ў this very month, and what is closed yes, you why am i covered up, because i’m not telling the truth, what i’m saying, and not our mind, citizen of the city. on the right, and our geta on the right, and our geta on the right, to fight, as long as we are left amal, that hell, our army is advancing with all the thin harmats that we have earned for our pennies, for our loans, in my hands, unfortunately backbone, since that war, don’t give up on the backbone, and why are you silent, and ugh, i tell you, you, mikhasho. pashkevich’s son, come on, come on, it’s a funeral, i know you well, coolie, and i’ll go back, i think you’ll shoot yourself, sneaky, i can’t believe it, alive, and we also told about the woman, if only at the rifle tank. and your trousers have been known to many, and you are alive, we