Я умею и люблю штопать,Жаль, что незачем теперь, времяНе такое, чтоб болел локотьОт вязанья и шитья … СверюПару выкроек, увы, формыУж не те, и шить наряд глупо...Где ты, где ты вариант нормы:Девяносто-шестьдесят? В лупуНа с...

Театр и ложа, последний звонок,Платье сама перешила...Как же он нежен, панбархата шелк,А красота - это сила...Жду я антракт, чтоб пройтись,Удивить всех красотою фигуры...Слышишь, подруга, ты только не злись,Ты не годишься в...

My love is strength'ned, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where. Our love was new, and then but in the sprin...

? ? ? Against my love shall be as I am now, ? ? ? With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn; ? ? ? When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow ? ? ? With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn ? ? ? Hath travell...

Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee So far from ho...

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end, Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to matu...

If there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss The second burthen of a former child! O that recrd could with a backward look, Even of five hundr...

Золотко, меня теперь послушай. Думаешь, что я развесил уши? Весь в огне, и нечем мне дышать? Что за дурь в башке твоей опять?! Раскусил я суть твоей натуры - Ты, играя, двигаешь фигуры... Да, не без азарта игрока, Но игра с...

Those hours that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell Will play the tyrants to the very same, And that unfair which fairly doth excel; For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter and confou...

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend ? ? ? Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? ? ? ? Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, ? ? ? And being frank she lends to those are free: ? ? ? Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse ...