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The lot by the graves was a dusty hot land;
The river behind -- blue and cool.
You told me, 'Well, go to a convent,
Or go marry a fool...'
Princes always say that, being placid or fierce,
But I cherish this speech, short and poor --
Let it flow and shine through a thousand years,
Like from shoulders do mantles of fur.
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And, as if in wrong occasion,
I said, 'Thou,' else...
And an easy smile of pleasure
Lit up dear face.
From such lapses, told or mental,
Every cheek would blaze.
love-you/">I love you as forty gentle
Sisters love and bless.
Reading 'hamlet'
Anna Akhmatova
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Poem topics: I love you, poor, river, smile, dear, pleasure, gentle, blue, speech, face, wrong, mental, fool, easy, shine, short, cool, fierce, cherish, love, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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