Читать книгу Mission 777 Possible - Марина Спроуз - Страница 84

I choose hopelessness…

Like sailing without an anchor in the dark;

There is a place on Earth for death,

And there is a place for life on Earth.

My careless choice

Fell on the heavier fate;

With a painful, anxious tear,

With a mad trace that is more important.

I choose the path of separation…

Anxiety, tugging at a lock of hair;

Cold days, with chilled hands,

And faith, to bring back the past.

I choose without excess…

And somewhere a golden dome;

And outside the window, a wreath of cherries,

And a table in a simple room.

I choose a quiet evening…

Instead of pompous bustle,

And a night of freedom, where there are candles,

And the day’s gaping crowd…