Какая штука у меня на ДИСКЕТАХ завалялась, а? Чего только не найдёшь при весенней уборке
Бёрнс
Robert Burns
A Red, Red rose
O my luve is like a red, red, rose
That`s newly sprung in June.
O my luve is like the melodie
That`s sweetly playd in tune.
As fair art those: my bonnie lass
So deep in luve am i.
And I will luve thee still, my dear
Till a` the seas gang dry.
Till a` the seas gung dry, my dear
And roks melt wi` the sun.
And I will luve the still, my dear
While sands a` life shall run
And fare thee weel, my only luve
And fare thee weel a while.
And I will came again, my luve
Tho it were ten thousand mile.
Шекспир
William Shakespeare
Sonnet XCI
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their bodies force,
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,
Some in their howks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humaur hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest;
But these particulars are not measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments` cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
And, having thee, of all men`s pride I boast.
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away and me most wretched make.
Спенсер
РЕНДАЛЬФ УИЛЬЯМ СПЕНСЕР
THE DREAM
Our life is twofold: sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight from off our waking toils,
They do divide our being; they become
A portion of ourselves as of our time,
And look like heralds of eternity;
They pass like spirits of the past, - they speak
Like Sibyls of the future; they have power
The tyranny of pleasure and of pain;
They make us what we were not-what they will,
And shake us with the vision that`s gone by,
The dread of vanished shadows- Are they so?
Is not the past all shadow? What are they?
Creations of the mind? The mind can make
Substance and people planets of its own
With beings brighter than have been, and give
A breath to forms which can out live all flash.
I would recall a vision which I dreamed
Perchance in sleep-for in its elf a thought
A slumbering thought, is capable of years,
And curdles a long life into one hour.