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    Boris Dali

    Zableyalo My Lamb


    Zableyalo my lamb,
    in Todorov pens,
    he lamb zablya-
    his whole herd razblya.
    Todor spoke of lamb, lamb
    , Bain, horned,
    why me plaintively shine -
    so my flock razbleya.
    Dahl is not your grass green,
    or you zobta not stiga-
    lamb spoke plaintively,
    Le Bain Bacho, Todor,
    where is my mother.
    Todor spoke of lamb, lamb
    Bajnai horned -
    pelvis early in the morning on Sunday,
    came three traders,
    handful Anthony dadoha-
    Rogusha of them sold.
    lamb spoke plaintively,
    remember? Bajnai Todor,
    when Tunja pridoyde,
    chain bridges broke down,
    your herd streaky,
    across the river remained.
    you walked along the banks,
    plaintively his Milne was crying, my mother
    Rogusha, she
    bring your flock.
    Remember what you promised,
    what was your word,
    horns sha its gilded,
    legs sha her silver,
    why her Bajnai, sell,
    those die-hard butchers.
    Todor plaintively nazhali,
    medyan with his flute blew,
    like a flute playing,
    tears pour over his flute.