Читать книгу In Praise of Poetry - Ольга Седакова - Страница 51

DEDICATION

Remember, I say, remember,

remember, I say as I cry:

all will forsake, all will change,

and hope itself dies away.

The ocean does not fall into the river;

the river does not return to its source;

time has spared no one—

but I love you, I love you as if

all this were true, and yet may be.