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Denis Bezmelnitsin
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La Plage des Brisants
Evening gradually faded,
May with each sunset
Petals dropped... Intoxicated
Breeze was strolling 'long the strand
And sang... This chilling tip of wave,
When laves and sieves the ocean sand,
As if some nuggets looking for...
Upon the shore our traces, look,
My muse, they won't
Dissolve, nor disappear, but in mews
Shall turn who then
Dispread with cries and fly...
Declining sun in glass of wine, this scent
Fills heart, engulfs and penetrate; With light
Of waning sun the soul has mix'd,
Take glass of wine and hark to melody...
May 2018
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Bezmelnitsin's Gallery
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