Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok (28 November 1880 – 7 August 1921 / Saint Petersburg)
There're The Moments
There're the moments: the life doesn't order
Thunderstorms and disasters for us,
Someone will put light arms on your shoulders,
Someone - send a bright look to your eyes.
And all earthly at once will be thrown
In the bottomless gulf of the dark,
And above it will slowly grow
Silence - seven bright hues in the arc.
And the tune, so youthful and sole,
In the silence will gently wake up -
Lulled by life, strings of beautiful soul,
That is strained like a beautiful harp.
Comments about this poem (There're The Moments by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok )
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