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.
Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (From Four Till Seven by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva )
- Friendship Fade Out, Wilma Horne
- Contradict, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Common Sense, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Love's Slow Death, Wilma Horne
- Door to the Mind, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Traveler, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Pockets Of Lace, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Not Just You, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Cry of the Unwanted, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Beneath the Words, Fariza Nur Shabrina
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