Here also has tickled in a nose aroma of fur-tree branches and tangerines. On kitchen cut a potato for the main visitor of a table-for оливье. Under blinking and sparkling, a fur-tree gifts lie and wait for hour of a meeting with the owner. Snow silently silently falls, but not so is silent as подкрадываентся new year, snow even it muffles.
This atmosphere familiar to us since the far childhood, probably all of us still wait for Father Frost, or at least that miracle which he to us has presented... Let all desires in this silent and shouting, quiet and rough will be granted, family and for all whom we know, snow-white and motley, gentle and pricking language as champagne evening. And this night that will begin about 12 blows of those hours which with everyone "bam" excite any especial heat in a body that runs from heels and strikes in a nose. To You it is not sick, but you cry, hiding eyes sparkling from tears from everything though they too cry... It Can tears of grief, melancholy on a year leaving, can shame, for that that you have made or have not made that year... And still, first of all, it is sincere tears of pleasure, a miracle...
So let Coming year will bring to you so much happiness, how many sparkling snowflakes in a blizzard raincoat.
Let your most secret desires will come true.
Let the tiger, whose year now will come, will save you from a hardship and melancholy.
And let time during those moments when to you it is really good will stand...

With love ,in all my ice heart, for my friends
Shad-o-ren(Shadow-tH)