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Часть текста: No, my prince, I am not the one On whom you'd rather lay your eyes, And for long these lips of mine Do not kiss, but prophesize. Do not think I'm in delirium Or with boredom I do whine Loudly I speak of pain: It's the very trade of mine. And I know how to teach, That the unexpected happened, How to tame for centuries Her, whose love is so rapid. You want glory? Ask from me For advice for this your plight, Only it is but a trap, There's no joy here and no light. Well, go home, and forget This our meeting, I implore, And for your sin, my dear one, I'll respond before the Lord.
© 2000- NIV