Пишет Баис: 29.08.2012 в 14:42 У меня два аглицких: A. Swinburne, «Swan Song» We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die tomorrow; Time stoops to no man’s lure; And love grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure. From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief than...