вольный перевод Г. Гейне
She was so languid, sighing..
The sunset caught her sight as she
Was ready like a bird to flee,
But saw it softly dying..
My naive girl! Don't melt in sorrow..
That's just the oldest trick:
The sun'll be back for you tomorrow
And burst your chest with dearest swallow
And spark your heart's hot wick.
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