папа: ну вот, три аккорда я знаю. могу теперь песни писать, я же этот... я: типа поэт? папа: типа нытик. ... I am the only being whose doom No tongue would ask no eye would mourn I never caused a thought of gloom A smile of joy since I was born In secret pleasure - secret tears This changeful life has slipped away As friendless after eighteen years As lone as on my natal day There have been ...