1 мин
Слушать(AI)Lake
Maidenly lake, fathomless lake,
Stay as you were once, overgrown with rushes,
Idling with a reflected cloud, for my
Whom your shore no longer touches.
Your girl was always real to me.
Her bones lie in a city by the sea.
Everything occurs too normally.
A unique love simply wears away.
Girl, hey, girl, we repose in an abyss.
The base of a skull, a rib, a pelvis,
Is it you? me?
We are more than this.
No clock counts hours and years for us.
How could a creature, ephemeral, eternal,
Measure for me necessity and fate?
You are locked with me in a letter-crystal.
No matter that you're not a living maid.
Czeslaw Milosz
Czesław Miłosz (30 June 1911 – 14 August 2004) was a Polish-American poet, prose writer, translator, and diplomat. Regarded as one of the great
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
Father Explains
There where that ray touches the And the shadows escape as if they really ran, Warsaw stands, open from all sides, A city not very old but quite famous
To Mrs Professor In Defense Of My Cats Honor And Not Only
My valiant helper, a small-sized Sleeps sweetly on my desk, by the computer, Unaware that you insult his tribe Cats play with a mouse or with a half-dead mole
Late Ripeness
Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I enteredthe clarity of early morning One after another my former lives were departing,like ships, together with their sorrow And the countries,...
It Was Winter
Winter came as it does in this valley After eight dry months rain fell And the mountains, straw-colored, turned green for a while In the canyons where gray laurels Graft their stony roots to granite, Streams must have filled the dri...
