passade
And when across this world I pass
A disenchanted opera glass,
Shall I grow bored with mirth and rages,
And shall I then in silence yawn
And recollect a time that’s gone?
A disenchanted opera glass,
Shall I grow bored with mirth and rages,
And shall I then in silence yawn
And recollect a time that’s gone?
Alexander Pushkin (via whatokay)
Posted on Monday at 8:20pm
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