"Nine Tomorrows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)
b - Gruff
Dear Ike, I was prepared(And, boy, I really cared)To swallow almost anything you wrote.But, Ike, you're just plain shot,Your writing's gone to pot,There's nothing left but hack and mental bloat.Take back this piece of junk;It smelled; it reeked; it stunk;Just glancing through it once was deadly rough.But Ike, boy, by and by,Just try another try. I need some yarns and, kid, I love your stuff.