Нема. Чому? А може?
Нема болючіше нічого, Ніж щастя інших споглядати. Нема проклятіше нічого, Ніж мріяти й не здобувати. Нема страшніше злого року: Не знати, що таке кохати. Нема жахливіше пороку, Ніж всіх довкола проклинати. Та дух мій просить щастя того Й завидує усім навкруг. Чому я мучусь з року злого, Коли втішається мій друг? Чому відмовлено в малому, Як інший в повному живе? Дурному дано і кривому, Розумний ж сам хреста несе. Так я покинутий скитаюсь, Проклятий день від дня живу. Довкола злісно оглядаюсь Злобу виміщую, реву. Не жити б - взагалі волію, Ніж одиноким таким буть. Я вкрав би щастя - це я вмію. Страшить мене обряду суть.
2024-04-03 20:54:42
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