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You could not reconcile his yearning,
Beating our laughter, that hurts, zhalya.
Dogorev, as candles at the piano,
Each bright woke you in paradise.

Then said Jesus, loving father:
"At the bottom of your mother misses,
It is sad to empty the soul temple,
sad world. To imagine her call me ".

Since then,, when yellow forest,
it up, through leaf gilding,
All looks, as though looking for something
In the darkening blue skies.

And when autumn flowers
Cling to the ground, as the child's look without laughing,
With bright lip breaks, like an echo,
moan: "My boy, it's you!»

ABOUT, call, Call it stronger!
On land, where everything - one alarm
And on that, how marvelous to be with God,
all say, - because kids know all!

I understand you, that life il laugh, il delirium,
you're gone, doubt without disturbing ...
You're gone ... You were wise, Sergei!
In a world of sadness. God no sadness!

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All poems of Alexander Blok

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