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Alexander Pushkin - Solitude
Work rating: Medium

He`s blessed, who lives in peace, that`s distant
From the ignorant fobs with calls,
Who can provide his every instance
With dreams, or labors, or recalls;
To whom the fate sends friends in score,
Who hides himself by Savior`s back
From bashful fools, which lull and bore,
And from the impudent ones, which wake.
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