Xoтел бы быть я на этом месте
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
Свидетельство о публикации №111062600320
А перевода - не будет?...
Кораблинова Ника 05.07.2011 11:21 Заявить о нарушении
Спасибо, что ОБЪЯСНИЛИ...
Теперь... буду знать..., что не смогла...прочесть...ШЕКСПИРА!!!!!!!
Кораблинова Ника 06.07.2011 14:41 Заявить о нарушении