Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
калинка моя!
Ἄκουε τὰ ἀπὸ καρδίας.
4 / 7 / 11
A maiden faire of the greene sicknesse late
P itty to see perplexed was full sore
R esolving how to mend her bad estate
I n this distress Apollo doth implore
C ure for her ill. The oracle assignes
K eepe the first letters of these several lines
