Я иду на запах огня, свет воды и тепло земли
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle withe the hands of Lust,
Some withe the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle withe the hands of Lust,
Some withe the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
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25.03.2003 в 11:18-
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25.03.2003 в 11:48Так повелось в веках....
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25.03.2003 в 12:03-
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25.03.2003 в 12:08А твое, безусловно, ближе по смыслу... То, что любишь, то, что дорого, то, что является слабостью... Уязвимое место всегда стремятся сделать неуязвимым... Памятуя об Ахиллесовой пяте.