Pushkin in Crimea
magical land, the eyes of joy ! Everything is alive out there: the hills , forests,
Amber and ruby grapes , valleys priyutnaya beauty,
And the cool jets and poplars ... All sense of beckoning the traveler ,
When, at the hour of the morning relaxing in the mountains , dear shore ,
Habitual his horse runs and greening the moisture
Before him, and shines and makes a noise around the cliffs Ajudag ...
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Мудрость не может быть достигнута усилиями человека, но лишь по Твоей воле, о Господь...
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