If you think about these words is that they are in your eyes a little taste of your resentment. Goes fast waltz over the roofs of the Worlds when the nostalgia snow watch your trees frail.
Knowledge is an innate gift that we never really did, so rocking up Nassella in this wicker like Moses who will run along the rivers. Plato dream in your race evasive, it guides you to the gates of a mind that has failed to condemn.
You seem to walk without knowing who you are! Oh! Hey! Stop a bit this Unachievable conflict of temporality, give me your life as before. A Siberian exile on the carpet, hot sled pulled by sliding thought the discerning friends. You whose lives were reduced to humbly see mine ...
President Chirac said to you strange. Your students I have known you were often if not always making mad that they know of madness, they who live too bogged down by the excesses of the world? I learned from you, I saw a soul in your heart more than mind, because you have the amplitude of a tumultuous ocean whose launch echoes of depths to horizons of the future. Coming up, forthcoming, publish, write to support you, you express the gratitude for a night of 29 November two thousand and eight, six hundred terminals you to me you on the back of my head, suspicion when your very first trips you had me diving ... One of the few! Otherwise scarcity incarnated in one body. You, in your speech that I suggest, take between your hands a moment before continuing on your way these few words I address to a star next. I trust that you're prepared, or maybe you employ your time in this final deal now. Philosophy, metaphysics, analysis, why has your being teach me without even knowing it!, And today I take practice. Our interviews are prolific your speech, always full of feel like I write in my face Senss slow timidity heavy unsaid you know. My torpedo, is you.
not without pleasure there to give me a vodka with you, in the rule of Russian folklore. Mr. Varaschin always made me know that I did roll the R in the throat, was it because I liked the best as you ride on the palate? You hear that kind of speech in this idiom must have reached your sixteenth sun-and God knows that the nights are long in the East "- for learning to do, I just had to spend a few hours in your language pedagogy to vibrate my tongue on my palate when I was not yet fifteen years. Human genius, a virtuoso of the word, love letter, unknown cultures that are a little displeased, it must be said here or anywhere, as your poem is dear to me. The Sahara and Ethiopia are the same Siberian gulags in your home that you déppréciez summers in France ... When it is cold in my heart, I can just see you wearing so little in the winter agenais, only read the French teaches you not here, and tell me your double exile, since c is to you that I must infrontière, this distancing of wandering and disillusioned, this disenchantment and his despite. With you I saw a Russian, I saw you with a humanity, a transcendence to a few years of existence. The number does not matter, will never write one that deserves a legitimate work rather than one whose prolific tea corrupting men. Это мой карандаш. Спасиба Иван.
Knowledge is an innate gift that we never really did, so rocking up Nassella in this wicker like Moses who will run along the rivers. Plato dream in your race evasive, it guides you to the gates of a mind that has failed to condemn.
You seem to walk without knowing who you are! Oh! Hey! Stop a bit this Unachievable conflict of temporality, give me your life as before. A Siberian exile on the carpet, hot sled pulled by sliding thought the discerning friends. You whose lives were reduced to humbly see mine ...
President Chirac said to you strange. Your students I have known you were often if not always making mad that they know of madness, they who live too bogged down by the excesses of the world? I learned from you, I saw a soul in your heart more than mind, because you have the amplitude of a tumultuous ocean whose launch echoes of depths to horizons of the future. Coming up, forthcoming, publish, write to support you, you express the gratitude for a night of 29 November two thousand and eight, six hundred terminals you to me you on the back of my head, suspicion when your very first trips you had me diving ... One of the few! Otherwise scarcity incarnated in one body. You, in your speech that I suggest, take between your hands a moment before continuing on your way these few words I address to a star next. I trust that you're prepared, or maybe you employ your time in this final deal now. Philosophy, metaphysics, analysis, why has your being teach me without even knowing it!, And today I take practice. Our interviews are prolific your speech, always full of feel like I write in my face Senss slow timidity heavy unsaid you know. My torpedo, is you.
not without pleasure there to give me a vodka with you, in the rule of Russian folklore. Mr. Varaschin always made me know that I did roll the R in the throat, was it because I liked the best as you ride on the palate? You hear that kind of speech in this idiom must have reached your sixteenth sun-and God knows that the nights are long in the East "- for learning to do, I just had to spend a few hours in your language pedagogy to vibrate my tongue on my palate when I was not yet fifteen years. Human genius, a virtuoso of the word, love letter, unknown cultures that are a little displeased, it must be said here or anywhere, as your poem is dear to me. The Sahara and Ethiopia are the same Siberian gulags in your home that you déppréciez summers in France ... When it is cold in my heart, I can just see you wearing so little in the winter agenais, only read the French teaches you not here, and tell me your double exile, since c is to you that I must infrontière, this distancing of wandering and disillusioned, this disenchantment and his despite. With you I saw a Russian, I saw you with a humanity, a transcendence to a few years of existence. The number does not matter, will never write one that deserves a legitimate work rather than one whose prolific tea corrupting men. Это мой карандаш. Спасиба Иван.
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