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Love
Tightly coiled, like a snake it sits In my very heart, weaving spells Or murmurs for days on end Like a dove on my white windowsill. In the sparkle of hoarfrost a gleam, In the carnation's slumber a hint, And secretly, surely it leads From all joy and peace of mind. It can sob so seductively, sigh In the violin's yearning prayer, And it happens, a stranger's smile Fills me with a sudden fear.
by Anna Akhmatova |
