Текст, перевод и аккорды “M?re”
- Harken! – the clouds mustered in dark – So painfully easing. Hush! – hearest ye the yew doting; Its years of yore in a mire, Each like a corpse within its grave; Wrought for us a yearn of lief; 'Tis not a lore of bale nor loathe; Harmony and жsthesia are its blisses; Ne'er ere hath it exist'd so sonorously – Jostl'd away the pale drape That us had been o'erhung – Tempt'd thy shutters to open And thus quenched the hearth; Thou giv'st to misery all thou hast: the cold – With weal embrac'd the sprounting landscape Like a star of heaven in the broad daylight – This joy subdueth until it again waneth, save the drooping winter of stalwart.
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