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The other day I met a Jew from Shklov on Arbat Street, directly opposite the entrance to the Vakhtangov Theater, and he told me about the moon he knew in Shklov, which urged him to Moscow. The Jew was…
A Lion on his deathbed lay.
There’s truth in every word I say.
He was gravely ill indeed.
Then came to him a goodly host
Of all the forest-dwelling beasts.
They came most eagerly…
