Devils (Alexander Pushkin Poems)
Storm-clouds hurtle, storm-clouds hover; Flying snow is set alight By the moon whose form they cover; Blurred the heavens, blurred ...
Storm-clouds hurtle, storm-clouds hover; Flying snow is set alight By the moon whose form they cover; Blurred the heavens, blurred ...
In lakeside leafy groves, a friar Escaped all worries; there he passed His summer days in constant prayer, Deep studies ...
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