Muse went on the road - Akhmatova

Muse left the road
autumn narrow, steep,
And there were tanned legs
Sprayed with large dew.

I asked her for a long time
Winter with me to wait,
but he said: "It is the grave,
How can you even breathe?»

I wanted to give her a dove,
the, that everyone in the dove whiter,
But the bird flew very
For slender my guest.

I, looking after her, silent,
I loved her alone,
And in the dawn sky was,
As the gate to her country.

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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