Вероятность посвящения виртуальной 2летней любви Грею 0,0001%.
The one who did not know the face picks up the faces
in the shaky fog of the world of their illusions.
From time immemorial, here
white fog. People wandered in the fog.
If one of them once decided
drive the boat out of the bay and board the oars,
people thought: "There is no chance
that the departing will return here again.
We found only empty boats
they are returned every third morning
with the fiery sun our omnipotent Loki.
We need boats. He acts wisely.
In the evenings we can sit on the bottoms
carving the name of the departed with a knife,
to remember: those in the fog looking
clear water - disappear immediately.
It’s not for nothing that Loki hid our city in the fog,
he bestowed it as a source of life,
for we live only while he is near,
just do not demand yet - show us.
This is not the will in the promised paradise -
fashion faces with your own hands
from the canvas of malleable fog. "
People's faces are vague and crafty.
The sun goes into clear water like a lens,
making everything transparent to the very depths.
The one who was looking for a face is not afraid of a face.
The one who is afraid - hides his faces in the fog.
*Tot, kto ne znal litsa, podbirayet litsa
v zybkom tumane mira svoikh illyuziy.
Zdes' ispokon vekov nad vodoy stelilsya
belyy tuman. V tumane bluzhdali lyudi.
Yesli odnazhdy kto-to iz nikh reshalsya
vygnat' iz bukhty lodku i sest' na vesla,
dumali lyudi: "Net nikakogo shansa,
chto ukhodyashchiy snova syuda vernetsya.
My nakhodili tol'ko pustyye lodki,
ikh vozvrashchayet kazhdoye tret'ye utro
s ognennym solntsem nash vsemogushchiy Loki.
Lodki nuzhny nam. On postupayet mudro.
My vecherami mozhem sidet' na dnishchakh,
imya ushedshego nozhikom vyrezaya,
chtoby zapomnit': te, kto v tumane ishchut
yasnuyu vodu - srazu zhe ischezayut.
Loki ne zrya v tumane nash gorod spryatal,
on daroval yego kak istochnik zhizni,
ibo zhivem my tol'ko poka on ryadom,
tol'ko poka ne trebuyem - pokazhis' nam.
Eto l' ne volya v raye obetovannom -
vylepit' litsa sobstvennymi rukami
iz polotna podatlivogo tumana."
Litsa lyudey rasplyvchaty i lukavy.
V yasnuyu vodu solntse idet kak v linzu,
delaya vse do samykh glubin prozrachnym.
Tot, kto iskal litso - ne litsa boitsya.
Tot, kto boitsya - litsa v tumane pryachet.
19 августа 2012 в 22:13
Всё еще из мертвой английской сказки о придворном Поэте и наивном Принце. Глава 495.