Divine angel, who betrothed usSecretly on winter morn,From our sadness-free existenceDoes not take his darkened eyes.For this reason we love sky,And fresh wind, and air so thin,And the dark tree branchesBehind fence of iron.For this reason we love the strict,Many-watered, and dark city,And we love the parting,And brief meetings' hour.
-Anna Akhmatova
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