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*** 11-03-2006 13:44 к комментариям - к полной версии - понравилось!


a mist reenters elder's room
a home of ever-known moon
thee spade respawn on night surround
before we just can catch cartoon
thee evil-bitches stand inside
in name of all with dirty mind
and there is no fucking spoon
no place to leave, no place to hide...
вверх^ к полной версии понравилось! в evernote
Комментарии (2):
Елена-я 11-03-2006-15:00 удалить
One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.


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