33 lines
862 B
Plaintext
33 lines
862 B
Plaintext
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Far Arctic village
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The village lies dormant in the snow up to his waist,
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Frosty wind knocking at the door.
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Moscow is far away and near the pole,
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But this geography do not believe.
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This is an old globe mistaken,
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What a long way to Moscow, without end,
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Where the native capital dawns smile
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Forever prescribed heart.
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Moscow summer saw us off
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The lights of the capital, the human tide,
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We parted, we were leaving,
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But the city is taken away we are.
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We have not forgotten our loved ones,
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Do us expanse of snow.
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Hearts hot frost is not terrible -
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There is growing real love.
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Let the storm over the roof angry,
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And we are happy to dream about
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As a native of the capital on the asphalt
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With friends and loved ones will pass.
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This is an old globe mistaken,
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What a long way to Moscow, without end,
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Where the native capital dawns smile
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Forever prescribed heart.
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1960
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