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Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake.
© John Keats
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Moscow. The Donskoy Monastery. Necropolis.
Variations on a theme «...with a film across Moscow»
Camera: Canon EOS 5
Lens: Canon Zoom Lens EF 70-210 mm
Film: Silberra PAN160 B&W Panchromatic Film / 135-36, Dev. D-76 |