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Дикий ирис
Ipomoea

Оглавление

What was my crime in another life,

as in this life my crime

is sorrow, that I am not to be

permitted to ascend ever again,

never in any sense

permitted to repeat my life,

wound in the hawthorn, all

earthly beauty my punishment

as it is yours —

Source of my suffering, why

have you drawn from me

these flowers like the sky, except

to mark me as a part

of my master: I am

his cloak’s color, my flesh giveth

form to his glory.

Дикий ирис. Аверн. Ночь, всеохватная ночь

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