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On hillside, near water, passer, Are you mature
gazebo secret, where sad dreams
sitting thinking? Above them, a set of acacias:
There once was an altar and the Muses and Graces,1
And lovely shrub roses, cherished spring.
there's no time, bird cherry circle milky
The jet of its fragrance, şumja, the coastal willow
Joked sometimes marshmallows and frisky and playful.
There's no time to be my last love
Nourishing the heart, and I worried about blood!..
Now I will hide all: So, in the morning, fogs
From sunlight thinning among a field.
Everything is now gone; but you left me,
Uteha suffering, salvation in silence,
About sweet, the soul holy remembrance!
you also, a peaceful shelter, those days, when suffering
They do not know me, I have kept the pledge,
Which can not kill the terrible rock,
my mirth, already taken tomb,
And rusty sword ancestors with a wistful harp!

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All poems of Alexander Blok

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