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Заболеть бы как следует, в жгучем бреду
Meet all again,
In full sun and wind seaside garden
The wide avenues to walk.

Even the dead are now willing to come,
And the exiles of my house.
You are a child of the pen to me bring,
Recently, I miss him.

I will have a nice blue grapes,
I drink ice wine
And look, like a waterfall flowing gray
On siliceous wet floor.

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