Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
The mirror's light sparks in the eyes,And horrified, my lids drawn tight,I step back to that realm of nightWhere not a single exit lies...(Untitled: "I pass away this life of mine...")
The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology
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The mirror's light sparks in the eyes,And horrified, my lids drawn tight,I step back to that realm of nightWhere not a single exit lies...(Untitled: "I pass away this life of mine...")
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