My uncle was a poet.
He traveled to Bulgaria, read poems, met some people, and learned local songs. I went to his funeral and met a Bulgarian poet. This poet sang a song for me, "Oh white wine, oh white wine, I wish you were red."
He traveled to Bulgaria, read poems, met some people, and learned local songs. I went to his funeral and met a Bulgarian poet. This poet sang a song for me, "Oh white wine, oh white wine, I wish you were red."
