To sleep To sleep, to sleep.
the long bright day is done
and darkness rises from the fall of the sun
to sleep, to sleep.
whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day
whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away
to sleep, to sleep.
sleep mournful heart and let the past be past
sleep, happy soul
all life will sleep at last
to sleep, to sleep. https://t.cn/AissZy8v
the long bright day is done
and darkness rises from the fall of the sun
to sleep, to sleep.
whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day
whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away
to sleep, to sleep.
sleep mournful heart and let the past be past
sleep, happy soul
all life will sleep at last
to sleep, to sleep. https://t.cn/AissZy8v
一萬多年來,人類馴養過無數物種,但是只有狗和人的感情最為特殊。
電影很美好,裡面有首詩也很美好。
to sleep, to sleep.
the long bright day is done
to sleep, to sleep.
and darkness rises from the fall of the sun
to sleep, to sleep.
whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day
whate'er thy griefs in sleep they fade away
to sleep, to sleep.
sleep mournful heart ang let the past be past
sleep happy soul all life will sleep at last
to sleep, to sleep...
電影很美好,裡面有首詩也很美好。
to sleep, to sleep.
the long bright day is done
to sleep, to sleep.
and darkness rises from the fall of the sun
to sleep, to sleep.
whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day
whate'er thy griefs in sleep they fade away
to sleep, to sleep.
sleep mournful heart ang let the past be past
sleep happy soul all life will sleep at last
to sleep, to sleep...
#念诗给岐岐听# aday19
12/25 727 42站联合冲榜[憧憬]
~ "Diffugere Nives (Horace, Odes 4.7)" - Alfred Edward Housman p2
Thaw follows frost; hard on the heel of spring
Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers
Comes autumn with his apples scattering;
Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.
But oh, whate'er the sky-led seasons mar,
Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams;
Come we where Tullus and where Ancus are
And good Aeneas, we are dust and dreams.
12/25 727 42站联合冲榜[憧憬]
~ "Diffugere Nives (Horace, Odes 4.7)" - Alfred Edward Housman p2
Thaw follows frost; hard on the heel of spring
Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers
Comes autumn with his apples scattering;
Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.
But oh, whate'er the sky-led seasons mar,
Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams;
Come we where Tullus and where Ancus are
And good Aeneas, we are dust and dreams.
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