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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII: No. 353, October 2, 1886
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2019
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With the sunlight on them playing,
Through the elm trees' paling gold;
And I wonder as they go,
Pacing slowly to and fro,
Are they telling one another just such secrets as we told?
In the cool and fragrant dunlight
Of the woodlands, wet with dew,
Looking out towards the sunlight
Here I stand—but where are you?
Where are summer's lusty leaves,
Where the swallows from the eaves,
And the hopes, and dreams, and longings that in those old days we knew?
Many a spring has blossomed brightly
On the grave of a dead past,
Many a summer has tossed lightly
Her cast leaves upon the blast;
And as autumn fades away
Into winter's quiet grey,
Comes the hope: eternal springtide will give back my friend at last!
Through the elm trees' paling gold;
And I wonder as they go,
Pacing slowly to and fro,
Are they telling one another just such secrets as we told?
In the cool and fragrant dunlight
Of the woodlands, wet with dew,
Looking out towards the sunlight
Here I stand—but where are you?
Where are summer's lusty leaves,
Where the swallows from the eaves,
And the hopes, and dreams, and longings that in those old days we knew?
Many a spring has blossomed brightly
On the grave of a dead past,
Many a summer has tossed lightly
Her cast leaves upon the blast;
And as autumn fades away
Into winter's quiet grey,
Comes the hope: eternal springtide will give back my friend at last!
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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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