A dagger darting to me came over, right in my eyes looked at me, then your song bell sing, angelic, as if not an earthquake. He hurled me, he hurled, ran with wings, even dance dancing. What? It was in my hand bread crumbs to crumble. I put him a little, and then the moment he called out his whole cheta and flew to the colorful flocks - pigeons, sharks, sparrows. And the pound came on every side, they made noise to God, they greedy, but in reply I loved the will. How careless are ... the same children with joy the food received, but the colorful dove, with a white soul, angelic sounds were cut.
