Святой Четверг

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Holy Thursday / Святой Четверг / Святой четверг

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Holy Thursday / Святой Четверг / Святой четверг

Songs of Innocence by William Blake, 1789 / Песни невинности Уильяма Блейка, 1789

• Святой Четверг (Песни невинности — Блейк/Маршак)
• Святой Четверг (Песни невинности — Блейк/Смирнов)
• Комментарий к Блейку/Песни невинности/Святой Четверг
• "Holy Thursday" (Songs of Innocence), a poem by William Blake in Songs of Innocence
• Commons:Category:Songs of Innocence - Holy Thursday

Songs of Experience by William Blake, 1794 / Песни опыта Уильяма Блейка, 1794

• Святой Четверг (Песни опыта — Блейк/Маршак)
• Святой Четверг (Песни опыта — Блейк/Смирнов)
• Комментарий к Блейку/Песни опыта/Святой Четверг
• "Holy Thursday" (Songs of Experience), a poem by William Blake in Songs of Experience
• Commons:Category:Songs of Experience - Holy Thursday

Songs of Innocence by William Blake HOLY THURSDAY. Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean The children walking two & two in red & blue & green Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands as white as snow Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow 5 O what a multitude they seemd these flowers of London town Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own The hum of multitudes was there but multitudes of lambs Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song 10 Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among Beneath them sit the aged men wise guardians of the poor Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door Песни опыта by William Blake HOLY THURSDAY. Is this a holy thing to see, In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reduced to misery, Fed with cold and usurous hand? 5Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children poor? It is a land of poverty! And their sun does never shine. 10And their fields are bleak & bare. And their ways are fill'd with thorns. It is eternal winter there. For where-e'er the sun does shine, And where-e'er the rain does fall: 15Babe can never hunger there, Nor poverty the mind appall.