On the eighth day Wagtail, the well named. On the eighth year Wagtail, the beloved one, On a trunk its head burst. After eight years, Wagtail, Your henchman gaoled, his head purified. Words admitted, freedom affirmed. In your beak, Wagtail, a sweet grass, flying away
Последнее изменение было внесено пользователем lilian canale - 18 Август 2009 10:42