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There is a demon in the morning. Smoky bright it,
Zolotokudry and happy.
As the sky, yidian struyasçiysya Gassan,
All - mother of pearl iridescence.

But, as the night darkness comes through blue,
So this face betrays sometimes terrible,
And gold curls - Cervone red,
And the voice - the roar of forgotten storms.

24 Martha 1914

Most Read Block verses

All poems of Alexander Blok

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