The Last Toast

I drink to our demolished house,
To all this wickedness,
To you, our loneliness together,
I raise my glass—
And to the dead-cold eyes,
The lie that has betrayed us,
The coarse, brutal world, the fact
That God has not saved us.


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

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