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There will be thunder then. Remember me. Say ‘ She asked for storms.’ The entire world will turn the colour of crimson stone, and your heart, as then, will turn to fire. That day, in Moscow, a true prophecy, when for the last time I say goodbye, soaring to the heavens that I longed to see, leaving my shadow here in the sky.
Anna Akhmatova
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Read poems about / on: remember, fire, sky, world, time, heart, heaven
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