The music is, of course, FA SOL. From it I made this violin. Why, you ask, one string? There is an opinion that even Paganini played one string. A musician played the violin, I his eyes looked, I'm not that curious - I'm in the sky flying. I'm not that bored, I hoped to understand How these hands these sounds to extract some wood from some pale lived, From some kind of fancy, which he served. And yet you ought to soul to us to penetrate and burn. Why easy on her, why keep it. A happy home where the singing violin puts us on the way. And gives us hope; the rest - somehow. Happy tool is pressed against an angular shoulder, On whose blessing I fly across the sky. Happy is one whose path is short, evil fingers, the bow sharp, a Musician who constructed a of my soul the fire. And the soul, that's for sure, if annealed, it is more Fair, merciful and righteous it is. Okudzhava For the contest "the Culinary range of tastes"