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Fattish crumbs of furry bread, they keep
Their bodies elastic even when
The frost blocks the eyelids.
Sleeping close to samovars, a symbol
For the warmth which stays hidden
In domestic walls, for the affection
Disclosed under layers of ice.
When babushkas wait to die
Russian cats lay their paws
On decrepit hands
And if the big journey starts
They are the first to bid farewell,
Then go back to the snowy streets of Russia,
Carefully avoiding drunkards
And marshrutkas.

— The End —