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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-06-03 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
October evening. The door towards the court is opened. At once something jumps inside. A cricket entered the room. Surprised, I was looking for it, arrived in the room, he hides himself. All day long I was busy and forgot about it. But in the evening, just at eight o' clock he begins to sing:
from the door sash cricket's song: the new lodger Next day he got out from his hiding place. Wishing to take him in a photo, the first frame was unclear. Finally, I catch him in a paper bag and put it in a shoes box. Next evening he didn't sing any more. I slink some leaves inside, to nourish him. Next morning there was no more but I found a leave from which a little parcel failed, his dinner. He escaped, I thought, he didn't like to live in, and now he is free. Sorry for the photo. In the evening, once again his song from the door sash and I enjoyed his concerto: punctual soloist the cricket's concerto to eight o'clock
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