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Alive without breath.
As cold as Death.
All in mail, never clinking.
Never thirsty, always drinking.
Vive senza respirare.
Freddo come Morte pare...
dal libro "Lo hobbit annotato"
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9.67 in 3 votiAlive without breath.
As cold as Death.
All in mail, never clinking.
Never thirsty, always drinking.
Vive senza respirare.
Freddo come Morte pare...
This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers.
Gnaws iron, bites steel,
And grinds hard stones to meal.
Slays kings, ruins towns
And beats high mountains down...
Thirty white horses on a red hill.
First they stamp,
then they clamp.
Then they stand still.
Trenta bianchi cavalli sopra un colle rosso.
Scalpitano e battono...
What has roots that nobody sees,
is taller than trees,
up and up it goes,
and yet never grows?
Cos'è che ha radici che nessuno vede,
più in alto degli alberi sta...
Cannot be seen, cannot be felt.
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It hides behind stars, under the hills and empty holes it fills.
It comes first, it follows after.
Ends life, kills laughter.
Vedere non si può, e nemmeno sentire...
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