Sense of beauty The beauty of a language, that you really manage to feel, appears at the certain level of its usage on which you can construct a long perplex structures by words, which full meaning will unveil only when you reach a final dot placed at the end of a sentence. And not only to construct, but also to avoid any ambiguity, of course, only if it is not the aim of a author who want to cloud by it the shades of a sense. As longer you can bear the meaning along the patter on a sentences avoiding mistakes, as masterly you are able to govern your new language. There is and there is not a freedom in English coincidently. At school that I finished more than 10 years ago, the quite good Moscow school, indeed, we studied that we must strictly obey one define structure alike “Subject +verb+direct object + indirect object”, and if you didn’t do it, you made the mistake, because there is no freedom in English. Perhaps by that reason, all translation from Russia to English, that were made by Russians translators burned in USSR are so rough, so jagged. There is no a fly of a word, no sense of beauty.