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Tytu³: Poetry Wiadomo¶æ wys³ana przez: Tromm Marzec 07, 2011, 14:31:39 Postanowi³em zaryzykowaæ :) Ka¿da krytyka mile widziana.
Sporo w¶ród nas mniej lub bardziej skrytych humanistów. Je¶li macie po szufladach co¶, czym mogliby¶cie siê podzieliæ, podzielcie siê. UNDOMIEL The trees have changed. There are no woods like those that used to grow before. Old oaks have aged, where pines once stood there's not a single one no more. Upon the hills there dwell but mists of Ages passed with time astray; and Winter's chill the mountains kissed, and sunlight withered gray. Among the plains, the fields of grass that once were emerald green, their stalks are faint, they come to pass, leaves drown in ice cold streams. The clouds above, the welkin-mares, all roam towards the West. Where there was heart - there grows a stone within my weary chest. And I shall also fade away, along with Realms of old; yonder the mountains I shall stray and reach the distant ford. Then westwards shall I set my feet, and they shall take me far, so at the crossroads shall I meet a lonely shining Star. 'Set sail', I'll tell her. 'For tonight a lenghty journey shall begin'. The Star alone shall be my guide to farthest shores unseen. |
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