310

The twenty-first. Night. Monday



© Igor Medvedev

The twenty-first. Night. Monday.
The city skyline in the mist.
Wrote some bum,
What is love on earth.

And from laziness or boredom
All believe and live:
Waiting for dates, afraid of separation
And sing love songs.

But otherwise the mystery is revealed,
And rests on them silence...
To this I stumbled
And since then everything seems sick.

© Anna Akhmatova

Source: /users/1077
poetry
Man in Space!
On the plight of Rasputin's daughter
Mature relationship: dependent, independent and interdependent.
Mature relationships: dependence, independence, interdependence
It's sad, but vitally
The most vivid memories of female veterans of the war (34 photos)
Women at War (23 photos)
Women on voyne.Vospominaniya women veterans
About people and bears
Catch Me If You Can
...
Man in Space!
...
On the plight of Rasputin's daughter
...
Mature relationship: dependent, independent and interdependent.
...
Mature relationships: dependence, independence, interdependence
...
It's sad, but vitally
...
The most vivid memories of female veterans of the war (34 photos)
...
Women at War (23 photos)
...
Women on voyne.Vospominaniya women veterans
...
About people and bears
...
Catch Me If You Can
 Metal powders can replace fossil fuels  How to attract and choose the right man