I have fun with you drunk…

I'm with you drunk fun -
There is no sense in your stories.
early autumn hung
Yellow flags in the Elms.

We are both in the country of fraudulent
We wandered and bitterly repent,
But what a strange smile
And frozen smile?

We would like stinging flour
Instead of the serene happiness…
I never leave a comrade
And dissolute and gentle.


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Anna Akhmatova
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