#followmeto my Dagestan. Watch till the end - there is a surprise 😂 Why do mountains make us feel so good?
#следуйзамной в Дагестан. Горы, горы, всегда только горы! Смотрите до конца - там сюрприз :)

29,690 Dagestan





очень классно


Цвета сочнее персика)


cool stuff🙂




Nature is an art🍃. Thank you for sharing your world🗺.








@_one_in_a_millions_ 😂😂😂👍🏻 ну ну


@photo_isaev руки задрожали ,от Дагестанской красоты 😂👍




Оч красиво❤️и голос Ларисы😍


Люблю Необычные вещи🌍


Это случайно не орёл ,напал на него?


Лариса Гаджиева👍😍


Красиво .


@tiagogerbera I’m sorry, I don’t know the title of the song


@agness.hacoby may I know the title of the song used in the video?


@muradosmann may I know the background song’s title?


Enfes bir kare, tebrikler 👍👍




Oh no, the drone broken?




What's the name of the song?


@mia_abed_azam beautiful, MashAllah


Amazing view! R.I.P. drone🤣🤣🤣


@julian_ak where khabib is from #nut




Poor drone!!!


So beautiful 💘


Классный пост у вас! Недавно общался с друзьями на @involtalife , что роботы заменят людей, верите в это?


My Dagestan 
When travelled the set of the countries, 
Tired, after the farewell at home I was turned back, 
Inclined over me Dagestan has asked: 'Whether the far edge to you done like? ' 
On the mountain I have ascended and from that height, 
By the all breast having sighed, to Dagestan has answered: 'Many edges gone seen by me, but you 
Still the most beloved on the light. 
I, may be, to love you seldom I swear, 
Is not new to love, but also to swear it is not new, 
Silently I love, because I am afraid: 
A hundred times the repeated word will shade. 
And if to you any son of these places, 
Shouting, as the herald, to love will swear,
Then it will bother to your stone rocks 
And to listen, and by the echo to respond afar. 
When you was drowned in the tears and blood, 
Your sons, speaking a few, 
Went to the death, and by the oath in the filial love 
The cruel song of the dagger has sounded. 
And after, when the fights have quiet down, 
To you, my Dagestan, in the really love 
Your tacit children have oath 
By the knocking cirke and the ringing mow. 
By the centuries you done study and all and me 
To work and live do not noisy, but do dare, 
You done that the word is more darling than a horse, 
And the mountaineers do not saddle their without a matter. 
And still go, having returned to you from the strangers, 
And the talkative and false far capitals, 
Difficult to me to be the tacit hearing your voice 
Of the singing streams and pride

The end of the page