[personal profile] diejacobsleiter
Пока этот шабаш британской музыки в моем журнале не кончился, пока я не устроил англофобский погром и не вернулся к китайцам, ловите момент, наслаждайтесь. Это красота на грани возможного. Печальная красота, конечно: Доуленд - автор мрачный. И стихи, кстати, очень хороши.


BY ANONYMOUS 

Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven’s sun doth gently waste.
But my sun’s heavenly eyes
View not your weeping,
That now lie sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping. 

Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets.
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at even he sets?
Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,
Melt not in weeping
While she lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping.

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