We all live in this land that doesn't belong to us, you are busy running around for a living and gradually forget the name of your grandfather who died in battle here, I am self-sufficient but my wife complains that I should buy a TV to learn new things. You don't understand the dance hall here Why can't I dance waltz and sing Soviet songs, like I don't understand why I'm the number seven here, why I'm only allowed to have one child here. You're scared to death by the celestial burial, and I'm hesitant to go into the city to buy a condom. You throw away two One piece of the Order of Stalin complaining that our souls are here, I turned my head and saw the ancestor Genghis Khan panicked. The Soviet Union and Mongolia are over. You can only sing loudly by letting others play the tattoo of the song sheet on your back. I put Kulun In the steppe, he still adheres to the tradition of free mating and named his new son Temujin. Mikhalkov is talking about the confusion of the Mongolians, but reveals his endless nostalgia in his bones.
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