• Стихотворный перевод задали( Я не поэт, поможете?The Cloud-mobile

    Above my face is a map.
    Continents form and fade.
    Blue countries, made
    on a white sea, are erased,
    and white countries traced
    on a blue sea.
    It is a map that moves,
    faster than real,
    but so slow.
    Only my watching proves
    that island has being,
    or that bay.
    It is a model of time
    Mountains are wearing away,
    coasts are cracking,
    the ocean spills over,
    then new hills
    heap into view
    with river-cuts of blue
    between them.
    It is a map of change.
    This is the way things are
    with a stone or a star.
    This is the way things go,
    hard or soft,
    fast or slow.

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