I found a deodorant in the store today. He is like me, read a poem. I am OK. And I load a not very short verse of Zachoder about a harmful cat. In a word, with a feeling. At the guard and the defrost, the eyebrows steadily slipped up, the girlfriend stumbled. We got a handful of sweets.)
By the way, the first candidate for reading I had was "Yaroslavna's cry" from the Word of the Regiment of the Eagles. In Ancient Russian.