(1886 - 1921 / Russia)

It Was Not Once

It was not only once, it will go this way,
In our fight, which is deaf and destroying:
As it happened before, you rebuffed me today –
To return, like a slave, by the morning.

Therefore, don’t be stressed, my inimical friend,
My friend - enemy, caught by black laces,
If the moans of love will be moans of pain
And the kisses will leave bloody traces.

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