My heart is like a bird, and then it cries…it cries and sings sad songs.
He practised his adverbs too often, drank only through a pipe, and flushed his speech in the morning.
He didn’t think anyone would argue with him.
Only one magpie was found,
Grunted in his ear and was gone.
And he, poor thing, like a knight, searched for her everywhere.
He died shaggy on the doorstep.
They thought he was a stray dog ​​in the moonlight,
Laid down waiting for his master…
(Joke)

I’ll mix up my pant legs and put them on first… I’ll smear them black and black, like the morning stain I form on my teeth. Only in spring, with melancholy, will I sketch a gargoyle and go home. I’ll pour some tea and color cookies for the sparrows… Let them eat a little, so they don’t go hungry at night…

There the crow hoots like an owl,
Denoting time,
Instead of birds,
Naming hope,
At one,
At a simpleton,
At a looker…
At all of them…
To reunite wildly,
Having received in numbers two…
In adverbs of words,
I will call it without disdain,
I will pronounce it in disgust,
Country, country, country…
With the prayer of dried leaves,
A snail will curl up
In the stillness of the day, under the blue blanket of hope