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Shut up, damn strings!
BUT. Maykov

Each other, we secretly hostile,
begrudgingly, deaf, alien,
And as if to live and work,
Not knowing the eternal enmity!

What to do! After all, everyone tried
Poison your own home,
All the walls are impregnated with poison,
And there is no place to lay his head of!

What to do! Lost faith in happiness,
From laughter we go crazy,
AND, drunk, street look,
As our homes fall!

Traitors in life and friendship,
Spendthrifts empty words,
What to do! We are clearing the way
For our distant sons!

When under a fence in the nettles
Unhappy bones rot,
Some later historian
Write impressive work…

Here are just a torment, damn,
Neither of innocent children
Years of birth and death
And a bunch of nasty quotes…

Sad share - so difficult,
So hard and festive live,
And become the property of the senior lecturer,
And critics of the new produce…

to bury fresh weeds,
to forget sleep forever!
Shut up, damn book!
I do not ever wrote!

24 July 1908

Most Read Block verses

All poems of Alexander Blok

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