The sand as white as old bones, the pine trees strangely red where the sun comes down. I cannot say if it is our love, or the day, that is ending. (Anna Akhmatova)

The sand as white as old bones, the pine trees strangely red where the sun comes down. I cannot say if it is our love, or the day, that is ending.

Anna Akhmatova

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comes day ending love pine red sand say sun white bones

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