Upon Dyna Bridge

It was noon, but the rays mellow and soft! Let’s stand awhile on Dyna Bridge, dear, under which River Torsha moaned meandering naked, unabashed!   Timid rays fell on its sickle body, and It gleamed, and…

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No Sickness of the City

It was sunset lone The sky deep orange, and the birds lined For homecoming, and lazily they gleamed.   Thirteen peasants angling, their eyes fixed to baits, And beside half a dozen half-naked children dirtying in…

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