Читать книгу Weirdbook #35 - Adrian Cole - Страница 6

A QUEEN OF CARPATHIA, by K.A. Opperman

O my belovèd, in your loveliness

I trace the shadow of an ancient queen

Who ruled a proud, Carpathian demesne

From out a castle lost in wilderness.

Dead pomp and splendor haunt your sapphire eyes,

And in your visage rouged with eglantine,

I note refinement of a monarchess;

Your sable mane the baser comb belies.

I see you leaning from a moonlit tower,

To catch cruel winter’s kiss upon your cheek,

But why so mournful, I cannot surmise,

Nor why you watch the forest at that hour.

I only know that on that night antique,

The wolves all serve you, howling as they scour

Those haunted mountains, barren, cold, and bleak.