Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin. (№ 254766)
The storm mist conceals the sky,
Vortices snow spinning;
Then, as the beast, she zavoet,
Then cry like a child
The roof is dilapidated
Suddenly a rustle of straw,
Then, as a traveler belated,
To us through the window zastuchit.
Quote Explanation: One thousand eight hundred twenty five
№ 254766 Added
MegaMozg 18-01-2017 / 13:08
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