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Night

My voice, to which love lends a tenderness and yearing,

Disturbs night's dreamy calm ...

Pale at my bedside burning,

A taper wastes away ...

From out my heart there

Stift verses, streams of love, that hum and sing and merge.

And, full of you, rush on, with passion overflowing.

I seem to see your eyes that, in the darkness glowing,

Meet mine ...

I see your smile ...

You speak to me alone:

My friend, my dearest friend ...

I'm your's ... your own.

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Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin was a Russian poet, playwright, and novelist of the Romantic era who is considered by many to be the greatest Russ…

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