The dead have been awakened - shall I sleep?
The World’s at war with tyrants - shall I crouch?
The harvest’s ripe - and shall I pause to reap?
I slumber not; the thorn is in my Couch;
Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear,
Its echo in my heart...
George Gordon Byron, Journal In Cephalonia
Сон мёртвых прерван - буду ли я спать?
Война с тиранами
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