Vladislav Khodasevich. (№ 265155)
Sweet after the rain smell the warm night.
Quickly a month runs in the slots of the white clouds.
Somewhere in the wet grass often shouts Dergach.
Here, for sly lips lips for the first time cling.
Here, touching you, my hands tremble...
Have passed since that time only sixteen years old.
№ 265155 Added
MegaMozg 19-01-2017 / 10:29
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