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My dreams and feelings for the umpteenth time
come to you dear pilgrims.
AT. Shakespeare

by the lists, point,
by churches and bars,
by chic cemeteries,
near Grand Bazaar,
peace and grief by,
near Mecca and Rome,
blue sun palim,
Pilgrims are on the ground.
they maimed, horbatы,
hungry, half-dressed,
their eyes are full of sunset,
their hearts are full of dawn.
They were singing the desert,
lightning flash,
stars tremble over them,
and a hoarse shout them the birds:
that the world will remain the same,
Yes, remain the same,
dazzling snow
and questionable tender,
the world will be a liar,
the world will be eternal,
may be, postizhimыm,
but still endless.
AND, so, will sense
belief in themselves but in God.
And then ..., there were only
illusion and the road.
And to be on the ground sunsets,
and be above ground dawns.
Fertilize its soldiers.
Approve its poets.

1958

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