| * A star on the road to Bethlehem * |
| Boris Pasternak |
| was winter and the wind blew the steppe. Cold had the baby in the cave on the slope of the hill. The breath of ox warmed him. Pets were in the cave. On a warm cradle wandered steam. From the cliffs looked sleepy shepherds spaces midnight. And beside them, unknown before, a more modest wick the window of a hut, trembling a star on the road to Bethlehem. |
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