Butterfly - storm - Pasternak

Experienced rumble past Butcher
Rotate became MK,

AND, you're at it do not tsytskay,
He finger you, and not a word.

He has a dream to me for mass action,
In the ranks to the roofs of burning sums,
He sprinkles the stairs, as in childhood,
And it raises a terrible noise.

Vain in the pan beating,
And provoked a poker.
It feeds firing and dust
Okuklyvshyysya hurricane.

As the specter of damage and repair,
Gorged itself sprigs dreams,
Asphalt greedy larva
Resin boilers drink Post Office.

But the defeat and repair,
To the consternation of closed windows,
Worm calm and dremotno
The back streets weaves a cocoon.

It was then huddled with prospects,
Mrachatsya exit street,
And the razor wind clouds mane
throws stuffiness.

Now you vyporhnesh, infanta,
AND, sitting on a telegraph pole,
Spread water bows
Above a whisper drenched crowds.

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Joseph Brodsky
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