She lies still
Her eyes on fire
Undressed to kill
And untethered in time
And in the arms of a stranger
You search for someone like her
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Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
Make her the cutest that I've ever seen
Give her two lips like roses and clover
Then tell her that her lonesome nights are over
It was her business to be young in both body and spirit...
Вниманья молодых людей
Не привлекаю я,
А с ней танцуют те, кто ей
Годятся в сыновья.
Берём мы рикшу — так за ним
Тут каждый сбегать рад:
Ведь мне всего семнадцать лет,
А ей — под пятьдесят.
(Изящных юношей толпа
Вокруг Нее теснится;
Глядят влюбленно, хоть Она
Им в бабушки годится.
К ее коляске — не к моей -
Пристроиться спешат;
Все почему? Семнадцать мне,
А Ей под пятьдесят.)
The young men come, the young men go
Each pink and white and neat,
She’s older than their mothers, but
They grovel at Her feet.
They walk beside Her ‘rickshaw wheels —
None ever walk by mine;
And that’s because I’m seventeen
And She is foty-nine.
Actually,” she said to him, running her hands through her wavy hair, “I am quite thankful for the fact that you left.”
“Because if you didn’t leave, I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be happy with myself, and to love just myself.”
“So yeah,” she gave him a smile,
“Thank you for that.”
Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #101 // “I found myself in the midst of losing you”
Не will never set the Thames on fire.
Ему никогда Темзы не поджечь.