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ABMJR
"February. Get ink, shed tears. Write of it, sob your heart out, sing, While torrential slush that roars Burns in the blackness of the spring. Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas, Race through the noice of bells and wheels To where the ink and all you grieving Are muffled when the rainshower falls. To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal, A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees, Fall down into the puddles, hurl Dry sadness deep into the eyes. Below, the wet black earth shows through, With sudden cries the wind is pitted, The more haphazard, the more true The poetry that sobs its heart out." Boris Pasternak
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ML_IDLM_KTN_12
Долго не могла заставить себя дослушать эту песню до конца. Когда все-таки дослушала - удивилась. Три языка в одной песне...
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santi_monse
Para cantarlo en español, sonaría algo así: "Fibrál. Dastát chérnil i plákat! Pisát a fiébrali nabsríd, Paká grajóchushaia sliákat, Bisnóiu chiórnaiu garít."
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santi_monse
Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать! Писать о феврале навзрыд, Пока грохочущая слякоть Весною чёрною горит.
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