agonia russkaia v3 |
Agonia.Net | Правила | Mission | Контакт | Зарегистрируйся | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Статья Общество Конкурс Эссе Multimedia Персональные Стихотворения Пресса Проза _QUOTE Сценарии | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
agonia ![]()
■ идут купцы ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Контакт |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-18 | [Этот текст следует читать на // Русском romana] | Submited by Ionescu Bogdan
From Job
A spirit passed before me: I beheld The face of immortality unveiled - Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine - And there it stood, -all formless -but divine: Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake: "Is man more just than God? Is man more pure Than He who deems even Seraphs insecure? Creatures of clay -vain dwellers in the dust! The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!"
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
Дом литературы | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
Переиздание любых материалов этого сайта без нашего разрешения строго запрещено.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Политика публикации и конфиденциальность