Male C. Pig a.k.a. Svinopolist (piggymouse) wrote,
Male C. Pig a.k.a. Svinopolist

Музыкальная пауза

Здравствуйте, мои маленькие девиантные друзья™! Вы наверное думаете, что я про вас забыл. И правда, забыл. Ну вот вам пока музыкальная пауза.

Я задумался, что бы такое покрасить жёлтеньким в этом стихе. Сначала думал, что две последние строчки. Потом ещё примерно четыре места. А потом решил, да ну его.

Whispers of Immortality

by T.S. Eliot

Webster was much possessed by death	
And saw the skull beneath the skin;	
And breastless creatures under ground	
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.	
Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!	
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs	
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.	
Donne, I suppose, was such another	
Who found no substitute for sense,
To seize and clutch and penetrate;	
Expert beyond experience,	
He knew the anguish of the marrow	
The ague of the skeleton;	
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.

* * * * *

Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye	
Is underlined for emphasis;	
Uncorseted, her friendly bust	
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.
The couched Brazilian jaguar	
Compels the scampering marmoset	
With subtle effluence of cat;	
Grishkin has a maisonette;	
The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its arboreal gloom	
Distil so rank a feline smell	
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.	
And even the Abstract Entities	
Circumambulate her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs	
To keep our metaphysics warm.
Tags: eliot, poetry
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