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    I Prefer the Gorgeous Freedom by Aleksandr Blok

    I prefer the gorgeous freedom,
    And I fly to lands of grace,
    Where in wide and clear meadows
    All is good, as dreams, and blest.
    Here they rice: the clover clear,
    And corn-flower's gentle lace,
    And the rustle is always here:
    "Ears are leaning... Take your ways!"
    In this immense sea of fair,
    Only one of blades reclines.
    You don't see in misty air,
    I'd seen it!It will be mine!
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    naber la yarraam
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