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Can not you not call,
my happiness!
Name your tender
sweet repeat!

All of you - a stormy spring,
All of you - one me drunk,
Do not run off the same!

Do you want to date -
the night cometh…
Do not you make me izbegnesh!

Zolotistaya hair, raspletisь!
These greedy eyes continuing to stare!
The long-awaited storm, had broken out!

30 November 1908, 25 December 1914

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All poems of Alexander Blok

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