feeling

Stone soap gloom,
Sobbed sledge com,
Rotten was fadable frost,
The snow was a hollow hollow.
Sarkau. Thaw, spitting,
plucked lantern,
How to cook a partridge,
And the city, I was naked, as the capercaillie.
If ramped sled
And sprawling apart,
This fog pheasant
His feathers were crawling.
Yes, they wanted it
under the cloud, matched
They loosened the body.
Black sky matched.

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Boris Pasternak
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