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Denis Bezmelnitsin
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Moon and Wounded Angel
Played evening song a flute...
Upon the cloud, in solitude
A wounded angel grieved and sang.
And wind was silent, wan...
In mansion veiled, a yellow moon
Heard song pellucid, pure;
A mirror cracked, he left the shade,
Saw little angel, spake:
But look at lake, you see,
How beautiful you are, how sweet...
October 2018
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Bezmelnitsin's Gallery
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