Содержание

  • Язык:
    Чешский (Čeština)

Vždy v stejném hoři...

Однообразные мелькают…

Vždy v stejném hoři mizí v dáli
mé dny, tak rychle letící,
jakoby růže opadaly,
a umírali slavíci.

I ta je smutná, jež zde v světě
vložila lásku na mé rty,
má v krvi pod hedvábnou pletí
jed smutku hořký, prokletý.

Že na zemi zde žiji dále,
to pro sen, touhu jedinou:
My jako slepé děti malé
půjdeme horskou planinou,

kde kamzík bloudí nad propastí,
kde bílých oblaků je svět,
zas hledat růže, které zvadly,
slavíky mrtvé uslyšet.

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Remember the palace of giants…

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The Gates of Paradise

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