Paris in the golden calf, dealers in,
in the rain, as the vengeance, anticipated.
In the streets of flying pollen.
Enraged blooming chestnuts.
Heat covered the horses
And the crack of whips glaze
AND, like peas on a sieve,
Trembling in the window embrasure.
Carelessly rush Tilbury.
His dovleet malice daily.
Before dawn tomorrow whether they?
Enraged blossom trees.
And their hostage and the debtor,
Where he disappeared? Brother, Alchemist!
is he, both on the books, wilted
Above the lanes deaf.
Almost as poplar, lopouh,
He looks down, how to reserve,
And weaves Paris, like a spider,
His sleepless Zenk
arranged, as the spindle.
he Vietnamese, like a thread of hemp,
The history of this hangout.
To buy back from the yoke
He must perish for nothing
And let the whole thread unwound.
Why did you take a loan
Paris, with its crowd and the stock exchange,
And field, and in the shade of willows
Ease of rural feasts?
He dreams will, as a waiter,
As pension old accountant,
A weight this fist,
That kamenschikovoy maul.
When, when did, utershi sweat
And Dry coffee otveyav,
He has to protect itself from worries
The sixth chapter of Matthew?