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Nobody is in the house
Boris Pasternak. em>
No one is in the house,
Also dusk. One
Winter day in a through opening
Curtains undrawn.
Only white wet clods
Quick promelk moss,
Only the roof, snow, except
Roofs and snow, no.
Again zachertit frost,
Again Volodina me
Last year's gloom
And a case of winter.
And again prick until now
Untempered fault,
And the window of the crosspiece
Surrendering hunger wood.
But suddenly the curtain on
Will run doubt shudder - silence steps Meria,
You, as a future, you will enter.
You emerge from the door
In something white, with no quirks,
In some of those really matters,
Of which flakes sew.
1931.
https://music.yandex.ru/embedded/index.xml?sid=adme#19683364/oneLove video>
This, of course, sings Sergey Nikitin, a bug in the player.
See also:
Shrill poems of Anna Akhmatova
In fact, I only like you
Simple verses about the most important
via www.adme.ru/vdohnovenie/prostye-i-chelovechnye-stihi-o-samom-vazhnom-706310/