Youth - a retribution. Ibsen PROLOGUE life - without beginning or end.
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run, run, freedom of the child, To the native country!
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I am Hamlet. my blood runs cold… I am a sword, pointed
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That life was… Tabor walked. Above the stars were sparkling…
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Memory A. BUT. Feta Before a Thunderstorm Before a Court
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I wander in the walls of the monastery, Bleak and dark monk.
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The album Chukovskii In idle Mlad, in peredrassvetnoy
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A month goes by the wave… I walk on the stone of old slabs…
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