If every vampire who said he was at the Crucifixion was actually there, it would have been like Woodstock.
Как-то Моррет упомянула про мечты о героической смерти на руках любимого человека. И я подумала, что у меня тоже такое бывает, но редко, со временем все реже и реже. Я уж скорей порву кого-то другого, чем жизнь отдам
Но у меня действительно есть одна мечта, связанная со смертью, и я сегодня зачем-то написала про нее стих. Сроду не писала стихов по-английски. Сроду не писала стихов про любовь, если честно.
When I'm ninety, and you are ninety two,
We'll sit on the terrace looking into the dusk
Drinking beer
And playing Rock-paper
On who's be on whose funeral.
Our hair as white as snow
Our skin goldlike tanned
Our brains as sharp as never
And as always
A single whole.
And your eyes, half-blind, are staring at me
Still staring at me
Like a tiger from the dark
And my heart is beating
For your pointed ears, my elf.
And I swear not to die first
Not leave you alone to eternal twilight
Abandoned without my fairy tale
Don't even think of it, love
It won't happen.
And you can leave me, my love
Leave to my dreams
To my memory
To our grand- and greatchildren
To my tears
To my books.
So, my Big Black
Don't be afraid
No matter who's won
I can write your real name on your gravestone,
Anarion.
Но у меня действительно есть одна мечта, связанная со смертью, и я сегодня зачем-то написала про нее стих. Сроду не писала стихов по-английски. Сроду не писала стихов про любовь, если честно.When I'm ninety, and you are ninety two,
We'll sit on the terrace looking into the dusk
Drinking beer
And playing Rock-paper
On who's be on whose funeral.
Our hair as white as snow
Our skin goldlike tanned
Our brains as sharp as never
And as always
A single whole.
And your eyes, half-blind, are staring at me
Still staring at me
Like a tiger from the dark
And my heart is beating
For your pointed ears, my elf.
And I swear not to die first
Not leave you alone to eternal twilight
Abandoned without my fairy tale
Don't even think of it, love
It won't happen.
And you can leave me, my love
Leave to my dreams
To my memory
To our grand- and greatchildren
To my tears
To my books.
So, my Big Black
Don't be afraid
No matter who's won
I can write your real name on your gravestone,
Anarion.
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16.05.2015 в 02:21-
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16.05.2015 в 06:48-
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16.05.2015 в 08:53-
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16.05.2015 в 17:23