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Anna Akhmatova - White Night
Work rating: Medium

I haven`t locked the door, 
Nor lit the candles, 
You don`t know, don`t care, 
That tired I haven`t the strength 
To decide to go to bed. 
Seeing the fields fade in 
The sunset murk of pine-needles, 
And to know all is lost, 

That life is a cursed hell: 
I`ve got drunk 
On your voice in the doorway. 
I was sure you`d come back.
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