Ah, don`t I know that, groping in the gloom, Night would not find its way out of the dark? Am I monster who the millions` doom Would shrug away for a few hundreds` luck? Am I not measured by the Five-Year Plan? Its falls and rises, aren`t they also mine? What shall I do, though, with my heartbeat, and With things whose sluggishness boggles the mind? In highest councils, in those spheres where reign The highest passions and the strongest will, The poet`s post has been set up in vain: It`s dangerous-unless it`s left unfilled.SourceThe script ran 0.003 seconds.
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