All promised him to me:The heaven's edge, dark and kind,And lovely Christmas sleepAnd multi-ringing Easter wind,And the red branches of a twig,And waterfalls inside a park,And two dragonfliesOn rusty iron of a bulwark.And I could not disbelieve,That he'll befriend me all aloneWhen on the mountain slopes I wentAlong hot pathway made of stone.
-Anna Akhmatova
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