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- Here Pushkin's driven sentence had begun,
- And ended Lermontov's in fatal sentence,
- The mountain grass has very gentle fragrance,
- And only once I managed to discern,
- Where by the lake under dense shade of a chinara,
- In that pre-evening and ferocious trice
- The glaring of insatiable dark eyes
- Of the immortal lover of Tamara.
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