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Unfinished and not in Moscow... | ||
Metro-train is rumbling aloud, But I hear the rhymes of your heart, While my own is crying out, That my will is nothing for God. And I hear the murmur of rain Falling down by holes of a sky, And it makes me to think with a pain That I had to tell you "Goodbye". And in touching your hands I feel love between us - Love with no sense, Like a winter's grass, Days and streets will pass by - But my hope can't die...
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