To our boats.

Mar 07, 10

To our boats not to meet, it is visible, in any way. Has carried away for the big affairs, for a trouble. I with post fishes send you a sign, That it is still live and for the present I wait. I, as before, in a way between \"here\" and \"anywhere\", I break flowers among a scattering of ice, I draw a goose feather on water, And feather movements are remembered long by water. I do not ask any more to anybody on постой, I look at a decline and I float on the East, And at times old Elm, mad sacred, Lights on my mast a spark. A.Makarevich.

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