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[ After The Vladimirka (1892) by Isaac Levitan ] A straight road stretches before us No twist or turn, no hope of something Better around a bend. What consoles us is walking With slow steps on the road And hoping it won't end soon. But we must move on, There are no stops To dwell on where we are Or pause to think of how The journey could be eased. And all we know is that this is A path from which there is No return. |