My heart, as the engraver, cut out image
And has put in my breast the true your shape...
Since that time I am serving as a frame -
The better in the art is the perspective.
Look through the master to his skill,
In order to view there a real portrait.
This workshop, where your shape is saved,
Is glazed with only your eyes, dear.
My eyes are friends with your eyes ever,
With mine - I draw you in my soul,
Through your's - from upper skies the sun looks
In studio with its mysterious fair.
But with my eyes through the window glass
Is hard to see your sun... alas...
Back перевод пер. С. Маршака, Шекспир, с. 24
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112041102114
Свидетельство о публикации №112041102114
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