Curiosity killed a cat... And satisfaction brought her back.
Я не знаю, зачем мне потребовалось переводить ее на английский язык, но я не могла иначе.
Касыда о бессилии Олега Ладыженского.
I have unlearnt how to polish up beits. Dear Lord, mercy on me or put to death! –
Mazers are emptied, and verses long chant. Fair I pay.
Lived best I could, and I‘d not have done better. Yes, yes I know it’s all fine, nasal, faintly;
Know that the many are louder and rater!.. I – cannot let.
Upwards the mountains I fly – mountains crumble; want it all proud – it appears not prideful;
Syllable ‚love‘ – stags like a saber at guzzle... That I don’t choose.
Minutes we render, we render in pieces, up in the sky pay with sanguineous spheres, —
I am not; hear me?! Ain’t, am not there… I bawl in vain.
Deep in the throat gurgles impotent stannic. Cold, it is. Blasts are divided by gavel,
slowly I drag penitential attic to bestow Jack Ketch.
Heart raced as mare of boundless steppe; weeping leaf fall, chanting springtide, I beg –
Where are you now?! The way as if candle is cut.
Roaming the world like the unbodied shades, plodding through blood we have slopped and have shed,
Life, oh, my life, – as a blasphemous rant! Anon, I whist.
Касыда о бессилии Олега Ладыженского.
I have unlearnt how to polish up beits. Dear Lord, mercy on me or put to death! –
Mazers are emptied, and verses long chant. Fair I pay.
Lived best I could, and I‘d not have done better. Yes, yes I know it’s all fine, nasal, faintly;
Know that the many are louder and rater!.. I – cannot let.
Upwards the mountains I fly – mountains crumble; want it all proud – it appears not prideful;
Syllable ‚love‘ – stags like a saber at guzzle... That I don’t choose.
Minutes we render, we render in pieces, up in the sky pay with sanguineous spheres, —
I am not; hear me?! Ain’t, am not there… I bawl in vain.
Deep in the throat gurgles impotent stannic. Cold, it is. Blasts are divided by gavel,
slowly I drag penitential attic to bestow Jack Ketch.
Heart raced as mare of boundless steppe; weeping leaf fall, chanting springtide, I beg –
Where are you now?! The way as if candle is cut.
Roaming the world like the unbodied shades, plodding through blood we have slopped and have shed,
Life, oh, my life, – as a blasphemous rant! Anon, I whist.
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13.02.2012 в 02:21-
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13.02.2012 в 02:34*speechless*