Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva
From Four Till Seven
Like in a mirror, there's shade in the heart
I'm bored alone - and with men…
Slowly drags the light of the day
From four till seven!
Everybody is cruel in the dusk,
Don't go to people - they'll lie.
Fingers have wound into a knot
The kerchief. I want to cry.
Only don't torture me so,
If you hurt me I'll forgive!
From four till seven o'clock
I endlessly grieve.
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Comments about this poem (From Four Till Seven by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva )
- to the one who reads me every day, on ac.., Mandolyn ...
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- When will I grow up?, Harold R Hunt Sr
- A Good Poem, Tony Adah
- A Day in heaven., Harold R Hunt Sr
- Who are You, Harold R Hunt Sr
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