The road is black by the beach-Garden.
Lamps yellow and fresh.
I'm very calm.
I'd rather not talk about him.
I've a lot of feeling for you. You're kind.
We'll kiss, grow old, walk around.
Light months will fly over us
Like snowy stars.


Бібліотека ім. Анни Ахматової >> Твори >> Переклади >> Збірки віршів (англ. мова)

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