22 lines
457 B
Plaintext
22 lines
457 B
Plaintext
White birch
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I remember, wounded birch
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Remnant at the dawn of the bomb.
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Studeny juice ran like tears,
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According to the mutilated crust.
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Forest rumbling guns,
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Clubs smoke of gunpowder.
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But we defended capital,
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Saved birch near Moscow.
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And early-bright and early spring
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Birch white again
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Dressed by a new shroud
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And she began to decorate the ground.
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And stop the pores of all threats
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We always say:
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Native Russian birch
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The offense is no longer dadim.1950 |