Текст: Ataraxia. Bonthrop.
It was midnight
the midnight tolling
It was midnight
October Thursday
It was Nineteen Nineeteentwentyeight
It was a male or rather a female
He came and the Autumn leaves were falling
in stillness, silvery stillness
he had a savage name
and the steel shining blue
he had a hoarse laughing
in a silvery pool
a fleshing vassel in the sun
from the Southern Seas
a ghostly wandering alone
in undistinguished seas
The torches, the flames and the shadows
the wind, its moaning and the dazzling lights
he came, the wind...
oh, the Southern West wind...
the midnight tolling
It was midnight
October Thursday
It was Nineteen Nineeteentwentyeight
It was a male or rather a female
He came and the Autumn leaves were falling
in stillness, silvery stillness
he had a savage name
and the steel shining blue
he had a hoarse laughing
in a silvery pool
a fleshing vassel in the sun
from the Southern Seas
a ghostly wandering alone
in undistinguished seas
The torches, the flames and the shadows
the wind, its moaning and the dazzling lights
he came, the wind...
oh, the Southern West wind...
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