Though heavily under an hour in her burden,
On the go cart track;
coachman dashing, Father time,
lucky, no tears from his seat.
In the morning we sit in the cart;
We are pleased to head to break
AND, scorning laziness and bliss,
Krichim: went!..…
But at noon, so that there is no courage;
Porastrâslo us; we are afraid
And the hillsides and ravines;
Krichim: easier, booby!
Rolls still wagon;
In the evening we got used to it
And napping go up overnight -
And while driving horses.
