Silent echoes in the rustling fields, Heavy mists upon the heart, it yields No mention of women or the drink, Only lead remembers the clinking link.
No word of dames or merry feasts, The country shakes on untamed beasts, No stone's resilience nor steel's pliancy, Weary souls, tired for eternity.
Rails scatter, shrines lie scorned and dead, No thirst, no passion, nor desire in our head, Only silence lingers in the rustling field, And heavy mists upon the heart doth yield.
Comments 13
что пишут тут, а не в газетах (ц)
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нейрооленя настигла нейролень
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Уже сделала ChatGPT
No word about the women, no word about the drink,
Only lead remembers the hoarse throats that still clink.
No word about the drink, no word about the dames,
The country rattles on rough roads and roads untamed.
No stone's resilience, no steel's pliability,
It's hard to put in words, we're tired for eternity.
Rails scatter, shrines are scorned and decried,
No thirst, no desire left in anyone's mind.
Only silence echoes in a field's rustle,
Only a heavy mist upon the heart does hustle.
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Переписано ChatGPT в стиле Перси Шелли
Silent echoes in the rustling fields,
Heavy mists upon the heart, it yields
No mention of women or the drink,
Only lead remembers the clinking link.
No word of dames or merry feasts,
The country shakes on untamed beasts,
No stone's resilience nor steel's pliancy,
Weary souls, tired for eternity.
Rails scatter, shrines lie scorned and dead,
No thirst, no passion, nor desire in our head,
Only silence lingers in the rustling field,
And heavy mists upon the heart doth yield.
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"Кота почесав и закутавшись в плед
Стратег размышляет в сети интернет"
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