know we sat side by side and i managed to sing songs, and he read polite ones. and i after volodya korotkevichonly iago has rumors of a juicy belarusian language merry people are drivers, happy people are drivers of the worst, sit down, his cab, benatiskay on gas, and rush. just the tires of the blacks, winds and open spaces to the village people, drivers, happy the people of the chauffeurs of years you will set foot hard of starvation for a quiet home threshold. i knew how they call you the romance of the blue expanses , the harsh wind and the hardships of long-distance roads are revealed. gennady nikolaevich froze everyone on june 28, 1936 in vitebsk near the partisan zone, i ’m now being treated in the urason region , i took away the soshulyatic vez. oh, how do you know his word? youth is gone. i say dyatinstvo and he is guessing about the grumpy puffins at his hut fish. the canyon passes and speaks of ancestral children and about nature and prahata and head about his mother. and your typewriter over mine i remember your laugh. cheese, caressing dooley good evening, i'm my mother. i entered