Искусствоед
Theodore Stephanides
Too Late

Hidden deep within the heart,
Many latent loves yet lie;
And, in chrysalis apart,
Dream in secret of the sky.

Butterflies they are that will
Never know a springtime sun —
Dreaming, silk-enshrouded, till
Eld and Death at last are one.

(from "Worlds in a Crucible" 1973)

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