A. Aхматова. Сжала руки под темной вуалью..
I Squeezed the hands under a vague veil.
"Why today are you so pale? "
Because of a tart sorrow,
That I gave him to drink and harrow..
Can't forget, he was going out.
And his lips were in agony curled.
I was running not touching the ground,
I was running to the gate, want to serve..
Out of breath I cried: "It was a joke".
If you leave, if you go, I will die..
But his smile was quite and awful.
"Don't stay in the wind" - He replied.
06.10.2014г.
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