Kharya and fist
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“I sat in the barn’s hut and looked at the street. He sits and looks, the flies are dying, the milk is turning sour. A fist walked past. He liked the mug. He says: “Kharya, darling, come marry me.”
FL/315607/R
Data sheet
- Name of the Author
- Фёдор Сологуб
- Language
- Russian