An archer known for his skills with bow and arrow went to the mountains in search of game . When he entered the wilderness all the beasts of the forest became terrified and took flight.Only the lion challenged him to combat whereupon the archer immediately launched an arrow and cried out "my messenger has something to say to you" . The lion was wounded in the side and smarting with pain he fled deep into the thickets.When a fox saw him running away however he encouraged him to turn and face his enemy. "No" said the lion "there's no way you can persuade me to fight.Just think if a mere messenger can do as much damage as he's already done how shall i withstand the attack of the man who sent him?"

:-) simpatichna ideia :-) zvuchi mi iztochno, ne znam zashto

Especially when the October wind With frosty fingers punishes my hair, Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire And cast a shadow crab upon the land, By the sea’s side, hearing the noise of birds, Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks, My busy heart who shudders as the talks Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words. Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark On the horizon walking like the trees The wordy shapes of women, and the rows Of the star-gestured children in the park. Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches, Some of the oaken voices, from the roots Of many a thorny shire tell you notes, Some let me make you of the water’s speeches Behind a pot of ferns the wagging clock Tells me the hour’s word, the neural meaning Flies on the shafted disc, declaims the morning And tells the windy weather in the clock. Some let me make you of the meadow’s sings: The signal grass that tells me all I know Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye. Some let me tell you the raven’s sins. Especially when the October wind (Some let me make you of autumnal spells, The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales) With fists of turnips punishes the land, Some let me make you of the heartless words, The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury. By the sea’s side hear the dark-vowelled birds

Tell me please... The lion is hurt, but still alive... Running... At action... What u can tell me yet - about the archer... The gasmes with bows are dangerous... But my be sweet? The story is too strange and written with... I like it... Good story...

radvam se che ti haresa shte ima oshte :o)

I don't like waiting, but can - if... - wait... And tell me please - why this so... personage - the fox - is there?... My by for little jock... Part of game... Of stoty... By me lion waisted words for the fox...

Ami nali znaesh v zivota vinagi ima lisici :o) Izvoda e che ne e priatno da imash sased koito lesno da strelia ot distanzia

Excuses - Good by - my time go on Thanck You for all

Jasno - excuses for disturbing... Have a nice time and all the best! Krajat na istorijata e jasen Pozdravi ot Dilan