The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord --Across the face of the beloved did creep,Who, sleeping, went a little pale,And then again more tightly went to sleep.It seemed that warmth of ray of sunAppeared to him just like a kiss.And long with these my lips I have not touchedThe tan strong shoulder or the dear lips.And now, the deceased spirits in my longDisconsolate wandering along the way,I am now flying toward him as a songAnd I caress him with a morning ray.
-Anna Akhmatova
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