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you will disappear from yourself,
betraying your own self forever,
and that will be the basest dishonesty.
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It's impossible to resurrect one another.
Death drags down too deep.
Death even for a moment is too long.
…
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I am written on it-this I believe.
What makes one's last love terrible
is that it is not love, but fear of loss.
Poem:Don't Disappear, Yvegeny Yevtushenko, 1987, Translated by Antonina W. Bouis, Albert C. Todd and Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Pictures: my mums, transformed into gold by the late November afternoon sun
3 comments:
Your mum will never disappear. She's indelible.
Lovely autumn pictures and wonderful light. I like the tinge of brown around the petals, sign of their end - those flowers will disappear, but the plant should flower again.
Lovely pictures and a beautiful poem.
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