Cloud

Last scattered cloud storm!
One You carry on a clear blue.
One you direct you sad shadow,
One day you are sad exultant.

You circle the sky recently clung,
And lightning menacing your twine;
And you published a mysterious thunder
And greedy land poila rain.

pretty, hide thee! It's time is past,
Land refreshed, and the storm raced,
And wind, caressing the leaves of woody,
You with soothing drives heaven.

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Alexander Pushkin
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