I am Hamlet. my blood runs cold… I am a sword, pointed
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Youth - a retribution. Ibsen PROLOGUE life - without beginning or end.
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At the coast the green on the small grave… At the door of W.
665
Each spring my ways steeper… With peace happiness
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ABOUT. M. Solovieva I seek salvation. My lights burn on the heights
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About valor, the exploits of, about glory about life, burnt out
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That life was… Tabor walked. Above the stars were sparkling…
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The monk walked and carried the holy signs. On a way, yellowing in the fields
502