Читать книгу Poems of Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal) - Charles Baudelaire - Страница 14
ОглавлениеIll Luck
| So huge a burden to support Your courage, Sisyphus, would ask; Well though my heart attacks its task, Yet Art is long and Time is short. Far from the famed memorial arch Towards a lonely grave I come. My heart in its funereal march Goes beating like a muffled drum. —Yet many a gem lies hidden still Of whom no pick-axe, spade, or drill The lonely secrecy invades; And many a flower, to heal regret, Pours forth its fragrant secret yet Amidst the solitary shades. |
