Sweet chinese girls.
In the mountains, on a cliff on the dissipation dreaming,
Treason sat thin and evil.
And next sitting under the cherry Love,
Dawn’s gold braid weaving.
In the morning, picking the fruits and roots,
They rested in the mountain lakes
And ever waged endless dispute –
With a smile, one, and the other with contempt.
One said: – In light of the need
Loyalty, honesty and purity.
We are light, should be good:
That – the beauty!
Another cried: – Empty dreams!
But who do you say thank you for it?
Here, right, laughing tear bellies
Even the stupid fish!
Once they have raised a shout
What angry hairy old man woke up,
The great sorcerer, grumpy grandfather,
Overslept in a cave for three thousand years.
And the old man yelled: – What is this war?
I’ll show you how to wake up the Wizard!
So, to finish all your contentions,
I fused with you at all times!
He grabbed Love witching hand,
He grabbed the other hand he has changed
And he threw in a pitcher of green, like the sea,
And after there too – and joy, and sorrow,
And loyalty, and anger, kindness, and dope,
And the truth, and vile deceit.
As soon as he put the jug on fire,
Smoke was hoisted over the forest like a black tent –
Higher and higher, up to the mountain peaks,
The old man curiously looking at the pitcher:
When remelting all peremuchitsya,
What the hell is it out?
Pitcher cools. Experience is ready.
At the bottom of the crack ran,
Then he broke into a hundred pieces,
And there was a woman.
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