poem? – toddlers!
L know you shades,
When the ends of the soul
Sleeps its correspondent?
And you write: “medium. Kivač.
I get up, gulom razʙuƶennaja,
Dawn rushes nod
And slaps canvas chair.
How tired eyes or stare,
Terrace deafening hubbub,
Crude cardboard kortomnyh thickets,
As paw, Dig crash.
And somewhere dropped out of the troughs,
Rolling with shovels to shovel,
Lake District entirely covered
Cold sweat waterfall”.


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Boris Pasternak
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