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The mysterious spring was still...
The mysterious spring was still enjoying itself, About the mountains the revealing wind was wandering, And the deep blue lake was being blue-- The temple of the Baptist not by hands made. You were frightened by our first meeting, But I was praying for a second one, And again tonight there is a hot evening... And the sunset so low above the mountain. You are not with me, but it is not farewell: And every moment is triumphant news for me. I know that there is such an anguish in you, That you cannot utter a word.
by Anna Akhmatova |