Из Виктора Пларра,
английского поэта (1863-1929)
Epitaphium Citharistriae
Stand not uttering sedately
Trite oblivious praise above her!
Rather say you saw her lately
Lightly kissing her last lover.
Whisper not, "There is a reason
Why we bring her no white blossom":
Since the snowy bloom's in season,
Strow it on her sleeping bosom:
Oh, for it would be a pity
To o'erpraise her or to flout her:
She was wild, and sweet, and witty --
Let's not say dull things about her.
