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“How can you look at Nieva, How can on the bridges you rise? With a reason I'm sad since the time You appeared before my eyes. Sharp are black angels' wings, The last judgment is coming soon, And raspberry fires, like roses, In the white snow bloom.” — Anna Akhmatova
How can you look at Nieva,
How can on the bridges you rise?
With a reason I'm sad since the time
You appeared before my eyes.
Sharp are black angels' wings,
The last judgment is coming soon,
And raspberry fires, like roses,
In the white snow bloom.