'How can you bear to view the Neva,'
by Anna Akhmatova
How can you bear to view the Neva,
How can you bear to cross its bridges? ...
No surprise I'm marked for sadness,
Since that vision of you appeared.
Sharp, the black angels' wings,
Soon, the judgement day;
And raspberry-coloured bonfires blossom
Like roses, in the snow.
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