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Come Look at Me.
Income. I am alive. it hurts me.
These hands do not warm anyone,
Those lips say: “pretty!”

Each evening brings to the window
my seat. I can see the road.
ABOUT, Do you, you eh reproach
Over the last alarm bitterness!

Not afraid of nothing on earth,
The gasping heavy paling.
Only the night afraid because,
What your eyes have seen in a dream I.
<Ноябрь> 1912

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