Хильда Дулитл (Hilda Doolittle) Текст оригинала на английском языке Epigrams 1 O ruthless, perilous, imperious hate, you can not thwart the promptings of my soul, you can not weaken nay nor dominate Love that is mateless, Love the rite, the whole measure of being: would you crush with bondage? nay, you would love me not were I your slave. 2 Torture me not with this or that or this, Love is my master, you his lesser self; while you are Love, I love you generously, be Eros, not a tyrannous, bitter mate: Love has no charm when Love is swept to earth: you’d make a lop-winged god, frozen and contrite, of god up-darting, winged for passionate flight. |
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