Читать книгу Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby - - Страница 9

Young as a tulip and beautiful,

Like the face of a pensive moon.

Blanched Seed,

You are like

A coin in mouth, who is died.

Roots in the shade,

Will grab you by the throat,

And ringing, ringing cloister bell.

Head, promised, to the time,

Like a mandrake old,

You out off the ground.

White swirls heir curl into wrinkles ̶

Elbow pain.

And you are not you.

Peacock train,

Like Argus.