A wish

Slowly my days involve,
And every moment in the bleak heart multiplies
All sorrow unhappy love
And all the dreams of insanity disturbs.
But I say nothing; not hear the murmur of my;
I pour tears; Me consolation tears;
My soul, captive longing,
They are bitter to find delight.
About an hour of life! fly, I do not feel sorry for you,
Get lost in the darkness, empty a ghost;
I dearly love my torment -
let them die, but let me die loving!

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Alexander Pushkin
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