There are Four of UsI have turned aside from everything,from the whole earthly store.The spirit and guardian of this placeis an old tree-stump in water.We are brief guests of the earth, as it were,and life is a habit we put on.On paths of air I seem to overheartwo friendly voices, talking in turn.Did I say two?...There by the east wall's tangle of raspberry,is a branch of elder, dark and fresh.Why! It's a letter from Marina.November 1962 (in delirium)
-Anna Akhmatova
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