1 мин
Слушать(AI)My stanzas are not my servants
We could not discern clamp in apparent freedom:
Defending point view, as a fortress at shelf,
I think, that I’m master of versify kingdom,
But songs want to govern my thinking they selves.
This feeling looks like as a satiate hunger:
In time, when I’ll drop in the silencing night,
My poetic lines, as a serfs, ll’ not be angry,
When rioter-death will brake senior’s pride…
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