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So Summer is gone...

So summer is gone,
leaving no epitaph.
It's still warm in the sun,
only that's not enough.
All that true could have come,
like a five-fingered fluff.
Folded into my palm,
only that's not enough.
No evil was slighted
in the good aftermath.
World was festively lighted,
only that's not enough.
Life forever was tucking,
caring, making me laugh.
I was really lucky,
only that's not enough.
No leaves ever seared,
no limbs broken rough.
Day, like glass, washed all clear,
only that's not enough..."



Arsenij Tarkovskij (1967)