Александр Блок Стихи о Прекрасной даме 7

Отдых напрАсен. Дорога крутА. Вечер прекрасен. СтучУ в воротА. ДАльнему стУку чуждА и строгА, Ты рассыпАешь кругом жемчугА. ТЕрем высОк, и зарЯ замерлА. Красная тайна у входа леглА. Кто поджигАл на зарЕ теремА, Что воздвигАла ЦарЕвна СамА? Каждый конёк на узОрной резьбЕ Красное пламя бросАет к тебе. КУпол стремИтся в лазУрную высь. Синие Окна румЯнцем зажглИсь. Все колокОльные звОны гудЯт. ЗАлит весной беззакАтный нарЯд. Ты ли меня на закАтах ждалА? ТЕрем зажглА? ВоротА отперлА? Rest is in vain. The road is steep. The evening is beautiful. I knock on the gate. It is alien and strict to distant knocking, You&scattering pearls all around. The tower is high, and the dawn has stopped. The red mystery at the entrance lay down. Who set fire to the TEREM at dawn, What did the Princess build herself? Every horseman on the narrow carving Red flame throws itself at you. The dome strives for the azure heights. The blue windows are lit up with a blush. All the bells are ringing. The sunlit garden is filled with spring. Did you wait for me at sunset? Did you light up the tower? Have you unlocked the gate? Rest is in vain. The road is steep. The evening is beautiful. I knock on the gate. It is alien and strict to distant knocking, You&scattering pearls all around. The tower is high, and the dawn has stopped. The red mystery at the entrance lay down. Who set fire to the TEREM at dawn, What did the Princess build herself? Every horseman on the narrow...