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Ill spread the white sail, i dont know with whom yet, but if i think about it. Is there one . Our guest is a young talented beginner. And so on, the poet, zhenya dal. Motorcycle racing along the vertical wall of vagai where where vagai we motorcyclists are rushing up, screwing in the wall circle after circle of stars above us, and below the light of the entrance is so similar to a card of hearts or simpler, and all around is the respect of the public. How calmly there is to watch and feed on how to rush to the stars behind the circle of fate . It goes away and you tell me youre a little tired, taking the wet helmet off your forehead. The time will come when we become fat and watch other boys race towards the stars one after another on a hanging wall, but for now we are motorcyclists. Who wants to speak . Lets fight. I would like to dance just two words. Can i please. Microphone, please. I really liked the poems. Thank you very much thanks anyone else just for the longwinded. Here a gir

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