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Do not laugh at my prophetic anguish;
I knew: stroke of fate I will not pass;
I knew, that the head, loved thee,
With your chest will go on the block;
I told you: nor happiness, no glory
I do not find in the world; - the hour blood,
And I fall; and cunning enmity
With a smile blacken my nedotsvetshy genius;
And I will die without a trace
my hopes, my anguish;
But I have no fear of waiting for the end of dovremenny.
It is high time I see a new world;
Let the crowd trample my crown:
singer crown, crown of thorns!..
let the! They do not valued.

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