По этой паре отчего-то стало почти невыносимо писать, поэтому я возвращаюсь к старому. Сегодня я перевела одно из своих "стихотворений" с русского на английский.
Black-and-white deathMy end… is it black? My end… is it white?
Flying at me with a sweep of a scythe,
Both on this side and the other side
That death, black or white, is the curtain divide.
читать дальшеBe it the whitest butterfly or the raven crow,
Its silhouette, shaped by the funeral gown,
Long since, has been setting our teeth on edge
While ordering us to step down from the stage.
The difference… difference: white or black?
When my dear is near, should I really care?
Black... fades to white? Equal, it seems.
Watered by the dew, two colors swim.
Ah! Her waxen face paints my vision in white
But the darken sleeve obscures the light!
It's time to smile and waste my last breath…
Still, that loving blue impedes the Death.Оригинал на русском