RUBBER SOULS (Andrei Voznesensky Poems)
I hate you, rubber souls, you seem to stretch to fit any regime. They'll give a yawning smile, stretched wide, ...
I hate you, rubber souls, you seem to stretch to fit any regime. They'll give a yawning smile, stretched wide, ...
Fate is above me. Why should I browse? Sleeping in dosses, an outcast, I rove. Grief is a cellar, that ...
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