Знаю, что на картинке ни черта не видно. Будете читать - не ломайте глаза: внизу на самом деле есть весь текст, а не только пропущенный)).

Даже не буду комментировать: все и так уже поняли, что я по этому поводу думаю
<...>He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dear woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby gray;
A cricket hat was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon the little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
“That fellow’s got to swing.”

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what haunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

***
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love to little, some to long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

He does not die a death of shame,
On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
Into an empty space.
***

@настроение: Это не страшно, просто этот человек всегда навевает на меня богемное настроение... Ну да, вот такие у меня представления о "богемном настроении".

@темы: картинки, Wilde, ХУДОжества