Читать книгу Time and love. The novel in verse - George Pospelow - Страница 59

Don’t lie, the spirit of folly,

and perish, rumors pal,

prophesy, the wind God,

where the breeze comes from,

what wisdom and news

it will bring us today,

from the height will mock

stupid rumor peddlers.

Golden Scallop sees

a mile away, a sentry,

respects the joys of birdsong,

bites for dangerous slander.

The washed by rain, the neat

chief of over-roof spheres —

such it is, agreeable,

restless superstitious creaker.