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On the Road
The land though not mine, But forever in my memory, And in the sea, Tender icy and unsalted water. On the bottom the sand is whiter than chalk, And the air is drunk, like wine, And the rosy body of the pine trees Is naked at the sunset hour. And the sunset itself in the waves of ether Is such that cannot say If it's the day's end, the world's end, If it's mysteries mystery within me.
by Anna Akhmatova |