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Unformatted text preview: And bears my rightful name, Leaving me a nickname, with which Ive done, I like to think, all that was possible. But I, alas, wont lie in my own grave. But sometimes a madcap air in spring, Or a combination of words in a chance book, Or somebodys smile, suddenly Draws me into that non-existent life. In such a year would such have taken place, Something else in another: traveling, seeing, Thinking, remembering, entering a new love Like entering a mirror, with a dull sense Of treason, and a wrinkle that only yesterday Was absent But if, from that life, I could step aside, And see my life such as it is, today, Then at last Id know what envy means Leningrad, 1944...
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- Spring '07