Wet Paint
B
Boris Pasternak
0
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'Look out! Wet paint.' My soul was blind,
I have to pay the price,
All marked with stains of calves and cheeks
And hands and lips and eyes.
I loved you more than luck or grief
Because with you in sight
The old and yellowed world became
As white as painters' white.
I swear my friend, my gloom-it will
One day still whiter gleam,
Than lampshades, than a bandaged brow,
Than a delirious dream.
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