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My life – expectation of wonder,
I stand my ground at the trouble’s brink.
And near me – the cursed Judas
prepares his treachery for me.

Parading his ugly goat’s build
and grabbing whatever the best,
he only thinks, how more costly
to sell out the Russia’s rest.

May it be too late for the insight,
may it be too bad the last sum;
the skies, and the stars will remain,
and also – the God, and the sun.

And also – the eternal Russian field
with strolling at large native wind.

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