<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">-- How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe,<br>amidst my shame --</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-- In stony Troezen will be an infamous calamity,<br>the royal staircase will grow red with disgrace,<br>. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>. . . . . . . . . . . .<br>and for the mother in love,<br>the black sun will rise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-- O, if hate would boil in my breast --<br>but see, the admission itself<br>has fallen from my lips.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-- Phedre burns in a black flame<br>in broad daylight.<br>The funeral torch fumes<br>in broad white daylight.<br>Dread your mother, Hippolytus:<br>Phedre -- night -- watche s over you<br>in broad white day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-- I have stained the sun with black love . . .<br>Death from a bottle will cool my ardor --<br>. . . . . . . . . . . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-- We are afraid, we do not dare<br>relieve the king's grief.<br>Wounded by Theseus, night<br>fell upon him. But we,<br>with a funeral song bringing home the dead,<br>will pacify the black sun<br>of wild and sleepless passion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Osip+Emilevich+Mandelstam">Osip Emilevich Mandelstam</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=473333" data-title="How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe de Osip Emilevich Mandelstam" data-description="-- How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe, amidst my shame -- -- In stony Troezen will be an infamous calamity, the royal staircase will grow red with disgrace, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and for the mother in ..."></div> </div> </div>

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