wonderful white kitten.
The white Cat walks in itself,
In the city of Lviv, changed a movement for eternity,
And, balancing on a drainpipe,
In still nights scratches stars on Lacteal.
The white Cat does not go in friends at melancholy,
The moment in a year can and that is for fun.
Waits for the odd fellow that will crumb crayons,
Having represented under a window – “I love you, the White Cat!”
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