covers

 

 
anna akhmatOva
  
poetry
I don't like flowers There Are the Words... You'll live, but I'll not; perhaps, lOt's wife
the guest We don't know how to say goodbye, evening Like dandelions which the children scatter,
In human closeness there is a secret edge, Nobody came to meet me Something of heavens ever burns in it, you will hear t h u n d e r