It dawned.The sun was leavingits heavenly bedroom.Mighty hunter Agyareturned to the home.He hunted in vainall night in the forest.He was very tired and disappointed.Near the old cedar-treeAgya noticedsome strange creature of the underworldwho looked like hairless horned apewith bat wings.Horror embraced his heart.His body began to tremble.With big

Oh my God! He is alone again.It is worse than in the desert.These people are harder than stone.Yonder disciple lies who is considered dearest to the Teacher.He slumbers like all, perhaps his sleep is sounder than othersbecause he is the youngest. I am alone awake.I suffer together with him here.But I am dumb as wall. Nobody notices me.I am like sha

With big sack full of sweet giftsfor the little children.Santa Claus is going on the heavenly skissurrounded by fabulous foxes and birds.

I live in the tower of Waitingin the place of dramatic playof cosmic vision...

A little wooden man looks thoughtfully at mefrom the medieval bookcase.

Golden autumn eveningis a romantic timeof jocund memories and lovely hopesof summer.

I am going on the pathamong fields.The clear friendly skysmiles to meand I inhale the fragranceof the buckwheat.

I love you, tiny wonderful flower of the arid land.You grow among thorns.The wind scorches youand the heat of the sun is your torment.But you are alive in spite of everythingbecause your aspirations to live nothing can overcome!

The moon is a clandestine maiden of nightthat sits on the stoolof dusky sleepy spirit.

You are a charming wild flowergrowing in the crevice of old mountain.You are beautiful rosein the valley of dreams.You are sweet mysteryand open truth.

Flowers are beauties of the world.They are little joys of earththat make our lives more bright.

Doves found a litlle heap of oat flakeson the street.They enjoyed taste of their godsendand expected no rivals for the food.The happiness of birds was noticedby hungry Child and Mother.They chased the feathered creatures awayand took their food.