Читать книгу Lone Star - Paullina Simons - Страница 8

We’re not serious when we are seventeen.

One fine evening, full of pints and lemonade,

In rowdy cafes with their dazzling chandeliers,

We stroll under the linden trees in the park.

Now you’re in love, till August anyway.

You’ll make her laugh, you’ll write her poetry

At night you wander back to the cafes

For more pints and lemonade …

We are not serious when we are seventeen,

And when we have green linden trees in the park.

Arthur Rimbaud, “Romance”