Вероятность посвящения виртуальной 2летней любви Грею 0,01%.
This summer smokes pure Afghan opium,
barely breathing in the bliss of a sleepy overdose
and in one of the impossible phantasmagorias
two feathers in the surf stuck crosswise.
This place is unknown and not open.
because it never existed.
Because someone invented these wings
snow-white against a sunset-scarlet background.
Sleep with elusive reality mixed up -
this summer smokes opium and jokes with those
who can’t hide sick tenderness longer
and ready to trade her for visions.
-
Eto leto kurit chistyy afganskiy opiy,
yele dyshit v nege sonnogo peredoza
i v odnoy iz nevozmozhnykh fantasmagoriy
dva pera v priboye votknuty perekrestno.
Eto mesto neizvestno i ne otkryto
potomu chto nikogda ne sushchestvovalo.
Potomu chto kto-to vydumal eti kryl'ya
belosnezhnymi na fone zakatno-alom.
Son s real'nost'yu uskol'zayushchey peremeshan -
eto leto kurit opiy i shutit s temi,
kto ne mozhet dol'she pryatat' bol'nuyu nezhnost'
i gotov yeye vymenivat' na viden'ya.
2 сентября 2012 в 13:04
Всё ещё из мёртвой английской сказки о придворном Поэте и наивном Принце. Глава 499.