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You wept in your mother's arms and I knew that from then on I was to forget myself. Listening to your sobs, I was resolved aga...
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The poem by Konstantin Simonov "Wait for me", about a soldier in the war asking his beloved to wait for his return, was addressed...
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There`s one joy left to me: whistling With, two fingers in my moth. The tale that I like tavern - brawling And swearing has got about. ...
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so here it goes, My sorrows song, A song that's short, And not to long, A silent pain, you'll never feel, A broken heart, that...
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love is more thicker than forget more thinner than recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent than to fail it is most mad and...
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