Читать книгу Cardos y lluvia - Kate Clanchy - Страница 5

I see you did not try to save

The bouquet of white flowers I gave;

So fast they wither on your grave.

Why does it hurt the heart to think

Of that most bitter abrupt brink

Where the low-shouldered coffins sink?

These living bodies that we wear

So change by every seventh year

That in a new dress we appear;

Limbs, spongy brain and slogging heart,

No part remains the selfsame part;

Like streams they stay and still depart.

You slipped slow bodies in the past;

Then why should we be so aghast

You flung off the whole flesh at last?

Let him who loves you think instead

That like a woman who has wed

You undressed first and went to bed.