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How can you bear to look at the Neva?

 How can you bear to look at the Neva? 
How can you bear to cross the bridges?.
Not in vain am I known as the grieving one Since the time you appeared to me.
The black angels' wings are sharp, Judgment Day is coming soon, And raspberry-colored bonfires bloom, Like roses, in the snow.

Poem by Anna Akhmatova
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