NB

A Pathan hat-seller who was passing by a forest decided to take a nap under one of the trees, so he left his whole basket of hats by the side. A few hours later, he woke up and realized that all his hats were one. He looked up and to his surprise, the tree was full of monkeys and they had taken all his hats. Pathan sits down and thinks of how he can get the hats down. While thinking he started to scratch his head. The next moment, the monkeys were doing the same. Next, he took down his own hat, the monkeys did exactly the same. An idea came to him, he took his hat and threw it on the floor and the monkeys did that too. So he finally managed to get all his hats back. Fifty years later, his grandson, also became a hat-seller and had heard this monkey story from his grandfather father. One day, just like his father, he passed by the same forest. It was very hot, and he took a nap under the same tree and left the hats on the floor. He woke up and realized that all his hats were taken by the monkeys on the tree. He remembered his grandfather's words, he started scratching his head and the monkeys followed. He took down his hat and fanned himself and again the monkeys followed. Now, very convinced of his grandfather's idea, he threw his hat on the floor but to his surprise, the monkeys still held on to all the hats. Then one monkey climbed down the tree, grabbed the hat on the floor, gave him a slap and said, "You think only you have a grandfather?"

Фоны для рамок и фотошопа.

Большое количество фонов для записей стихов, в виде рамки. Или другого текста. Также их можно использовать при фотошопе. Выбираем и кликаем на фон. SvetlanaT

Вам не простят, что вы счастливей их...

В меня кидали бомбы, разрывая Измученное сердце на куски… Мне было не до ада или рая, Лишь боль, что не подал никто руки… И если счастьем вы внутри искритесь, То вам полезен будет этот стих… О счастье рассказать не торопитесь… Вам не простят, что вы счастливей их… А если вас жестоко оболгали, Обидели, толкнули в спину, в грязь, Вы улыбайтесь, чтоб они не знали, Что можно плакать сердцем, вслух смеясь… [more=ЗДЕСЬ далее...] Вы встретили любовь, душа порхает, А сердце снова верит в чудеса? Молчите!!! Пусть никто о ней не знает… Вам не простят, что светятся глаза… А если в жизни вновь беда и встряска, В душе пожар и мысли больно бьют, Молчите… Не снимайте счастья маску, Иначе вас сознательно добьют… Я пробовала жить всегда открыто, Как на листе понятным шрифтом стих… Теперь последней каплею убита… Мне не простили… Я простила их… ©Ирина Самарина[/more] SvetlanaT