(1886 - 1921 / Russia)

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It Was Not Once

It was not only once, it will go this way,
In our fight, which is deaf and destroying:
As it happened before, you rebuffed me today –
To return, like a slave, by the morning.

Therefore, don’t be stressed, my inimical friend,
My friend - enemy, caught by black laces,
If the moans of love will be moans of pain
And the kisses will leave bloody traces.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004


Read poems about / on: friend, today, pain, love, kiss

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