Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлова начинающиеся на букву "T"

1. To One Different from Others

Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: To One Different from Others To One Different from Others Youre in no way like other women at all: You have laughter controlled and expressive, You wear dresses measured and fashionably long And you slip out from my embraces. You do not cut your hair to look upscale, Deepen brows or wear make up, You have Smirnoff, but also a nightingale Who in nature becomes his replacement, You are able to see in the sugar the salt, And in just uttered word, a full sentence. In Akhmatova you value pain without halt And in Gumilev - charm and cadence. For you, connoisseur of all kinds of verse, Sharpness of Sologubov means something, And that you and Blok never did kiss You are grieving sixth summer and counting. And in your eyes, as they are now getting well - Ocean breeze and a rye field in season. Youre in no way like other women at all, And youve become my wife for that reason.

2. Cultivated Lilac Blooming

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: Cultivated Lilac Blooming Cultivated Lilac Blooming In violet and purple bloomed the lilac, The lilac bloomed in pink and white and pale. We headed toward it on a tortuous trail Across an ancient fur and furrowed park. Sea to the left; river ahead, and hills - Behind; the blooming lilacs on the mounts Weave from the gentle smell delightful clouds And breathe the timeless redolence that heals. The lilac bloomed, and to my love I told: "If only I could take pen in my hand!" And she responded sharply in her stead: "The lilac blooms - large, and like ruby and like gold." The night is fickle, nervous, luminous. The kisses, nibbles until lips turned blue. Theres so much taste and elegance in you The lilac bloomed - the bodies bloomed in us.

3. Poem to Refugees

Входимость: 3. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: to Refugees Poem to Refugees In these miniature Russian colonies Those who are hiding from lawlessness Their sinful bodies and souls, Interests are so pitiful Feelings vicious and hypocritical: They seek only food and warmth. They all eat - it is only appropriate, And the warmth in our time is important too, Nobody will argue with that. But apart from the warmth and the victuals There are needs mental and spiritual, Besides breakfast and wood and coat. There is theater, symphony and poems, There are paintings, and if in Estonia There is no such delight, My compatriots, Russian terribly, Its your fault that you see things narrowly, And you lose your hearing and sight. If youll find nothing like this within this land And this village except the wheat bread, Maybe at nights we will perform Shows of music and poems, and vocalists We will give majestic performances And perhaps we will dance until dawn. Maybe well declaim aloud Gogols thought (Fess up: you did not read a lot Of his work in your life, dear friends). Maybe take something from Nekrasov And to know travels of Hatteras, if Nietzsche, for one, the powers forbid. But what are such pursuits to you Calling nothing but curses out of you Better revelry, maps and food! Better gossip,...

4. Poem of the Reason for Cheer

Входимость: 3. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: Poem of the Reason for Cheer Poem of the Reason for Cheer We live in astounded wonder At change of contrasting events. Viennas horrors and hunger Threw us into chills and cold sweat. And that, which we left on the east side - Unfathomable to the mind. In some times and dates you are trusting, Not knowing yet how and why. You arent weak in the soul, I am sure, As you lean over life, like an urn: In a republic miniature The big order has been born. Perhaps we are broken in hope And thrown into an abyss: Were sated, were sated, and so Were ready for faith and for bliss. We trust - we cant not trust, I found! We wait - we cant not wait in our turn! That world will in that measure be crowned Which divine grace will return.

5. Classical Roses

Входимость: 1. Размер: 1кб.

Часть текста: Classical Roses Classical Roses Once, when the dreams would bloom - the times were those - In peoples hearts, transparent and aflame, How fresh, how beautiful have been the roses Of my love, of my spring, and of my fame! The years have passed, many a tear flows - The country and its people all are lost. How fresh, how beautiful are now the roses Of memories of my delightful past! But days go by, and thunders in repose. Russia is seeking pathways to go home. How fresh, how beautiful will be the roses That my country will throw upon my tomb!