These are my, these are my…

These are my, these are my,
This is my weather
Stumps and streams, track shine,
Wet windows and fords,

Wind in the desert, snorts, hrapi,
Scatter my backhand and snorts!
What do you spleen, murmurings Krapiva,
Babbling Canvas Washing.

Dresses, boiling, licking to toe,
Mills geese and panels,
are torn, fly, tend Cables,
Splash in the palm of workers.

You and anguish they decided to flap,
They decided, I do not know the cut,
Here they are there, Now they are here,
Tufts tussock cover.

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Boris Pasternak
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