Sumashedshiy prints. Glava 5 - Yaponets (1988-2006) 009
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Published by dmvoronov
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leaves in the glassy stream, there weep fantastic garlands, did she make, of craft flowers,
nether-daisies, and long purples, that liberal shepherds give a grosser name. But our cold
maids do that man's fingers call them. There, on the pendant bow her crowded weaves
clambering to hand, an amber silver brook, while down her witty trophies and herself
fell in the weeping brook, her clothes spread wide, and learned like a wild a boy her arms,
which time she shunned the snatchers of old loans, as one incapable of her own distress.
Our lives a creature missed and imbued into the colony, but long it could not be, till
there her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious
sling to muddy death. And thus, then, she is drowned, drowned, drowned, too much of
water has to pour of her, and therefore I forbid my tears, but yet it is our trick nature
her costume hoax, let shame say what it will, when these are gone, the woman will be our
adieu, my lord.
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