стихотворение (In a Poem by R. Frost)
На беспечность строк обречено.
А играя с рифмами, ходы
словно бы берёт назад и вспять
Время разворачивает слов.
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The sentencing goes blithely on its way
And takes the playfully objected rhyme
As surely as it takes the stroke and time
In having its undeviable say.
