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Cлово "ARM"


А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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1. * * * (How often did I curse)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
2. Escape
Входимость: 1. Размер: 3кб.
3. Михайлова Галина: "Миф о поэте" Анны Ахматовой в западноевропейском литературном контексте: интертекстуальный анализ
Входимость: 1. Размер: 86кб.
4. * * * (She came up. I did not show my worry)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
5. * * * (Not mystery and not sadness)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
6. White House
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
7. * * * (Where is your gypsy boy, tall one)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
8. * * * (We noiselessly walked through the house)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 3кб.
9. * * * (Did for this, and for this only)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
10. * * * (The other cranes shout "Cour-lee")
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
11. Song about Song
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
12. * * * (City vanished, the last house's window)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. * * * (How often did I curse)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: How often did I curse This sky, this earth as well, The slowly waving arms Of this ancient windmill. In a wing there lies a dead man, Straight and grayhaired, on a bench, As he did three years ago. Thus the mice whet with their teeth Books, thus the stearine candle Leans its flame to the left. And the odious tambourine From the Nizhny Novgorod Sings an uningenious song Of my bitter happiness. And the brightly painted Dahlias stood straight Along silver road. Where are snails and wormwood. Thus it was: Incarceration Became second country, And the first I cannot dare Recollect even in prayer.
2. Escape
Входимость: 1. Размер: 3кб.
Часть текста: "My dear, if we could only Reach all the way to the seas" "Be quiet" and descended the stairs Losing breath and looking for keys. Past the buildings, where sometime We danced and had fun and drank wine Past the white columns of Senate Where it's dark, dark again. "What are you doing, you madman!" "No, I am only in love with thee! This evening is wide and noisy, Ship will have lots of fun at the sea!" Horror tightly clutches the throat, Shuttle took us at dusk on our turn.. The tough smell of ocean tightrope Inside trembling nostrils did burn. "Say, you most probably know: I don't sleep? Thus in sleep it can be" Only oars splashed in measured manner Over Nieva's waves heavy. And the black sky began to get lighter, Someone called from the bridge to us, As with both hands I was clutching On my chest the rim of the cross. On your arms, as I lost all my power, Like a little girl you carried me, That on deck of a yacht alabaster Incorruptible day's light we'd meet.
3. Михайлова Галина: "Миф о поэте" Анны Ахматовой в западноевропейском литературном контексте: интертекстуальный анализ
Входимость: 1. Размер: 86кб.
Часть текста: в "триптихе" реализует тайную знаковость2 своего письма, способы "перечитывания" ею источников, ставших предтекстами ее стихов, - предмет дальнейших рассуждений, в результате которых обнаруженные неявные смыслы исследуемого сегмента текста организуются в единое целое и проясняют более глубокую во временном и в онтологическом плане сущность. Объектом анализа станут следующие строфы поэмы: Ты... Ровесник Мамврийского дуба, Вековой собеседник луны. Не обманут притворные стоны, Ты железные пишешь законы, Хаммураби, ликурги, солоны У тебя поучиться должны. Существо это странного нрава. Он не ждет, чтоб подагра и слава Впопыхах усадили его В юбилейные пышные кресла, А несет по цветущему вереску, По пустыням свое торжество. И ни в чем не повинен: ни в этом, Ни в другом и ни в третьем... Поэтам Вообще не пристали грехи. Проплясать пред Ковчегом Завета Или сгинуть!.. Да что там! Про это Лучше их рассказали стихи3 Текст семантически многомерен, не раз подвергался интерпретациям, и дальнейшие суждения не претендуют на исчерпывающее (если таковое вообще возможно) его истолкование. Я предлагаю обратиться к "западным корням" отрывка, а именно к поэзии (и отчасти к прозе) англичанина Роберта Браунинга и француза Теофиля Готье. Обозначим...
4. * * * (She came up. I did not show my worry)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: She came up. I did not show my worry, Calmly looking outside the windows. She sat down, like ceramic idol In a long-ago-chosen pose. To be happy - is well-accustomed, But attentive - is harder just might. Or the dark shadow has been overpowered After many a jasmine March night? Tiring din of the conversations, Yellow chandelier's lifeless light And the glimmer of crafty gadgets Underneath the arm raised and light. My companion looks at her with hope And to her flashes a smile.. O my happy and wealthy heir, Read from my will.
5. * * * (Not mystery and not sadness)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Not mystery and not sadness, Not the wise will of fate - These meetings have always given Impression of fight and hate. And I, having guessed your coming's Minute and circumstance, In the bent arms the slightly Tingling feeling did sense. And with dry fingers I mangled The colorful tablecloth.. I understood even then How small was this earth.
6. White House
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Sun is frosty. In parade Soldiers march with all their might. I am glad at the January noon, And my fear is very light. Here they remember each branch And every silhouette. The raspberry light is dripping Through a snow-whitened net. Almost white was the house, Made of glass was the wing. How many times with numb arm Did I hold the doorbell's ring. How many times.. play, soldiers, I'll make my house, I'll espy You from a roof that's inclined, From the ivy that does not die. But who at last did remove it, Took away into foreign lands Or took out from the memory Forever the road thence.. Snow flies, like a cherry blossom, Distant bagpipes desist.. And, it seems like, nobody knows That the white house does not exist.
7. * * * (Where is your gypsy boy, tall one)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: "Where is your gypsy boy, tall one, That over black kerchief did weep, Where is your small first child What memory of him do you keep?" "Mother's role is a sweet torture, I was not worthy of it. The gate dissolved into white heaven, Magdalene took the kid. "Each day for me is happy and jolly, I got lost in a too-long spring, Only arms pine away for a burden Only his cries in my sleep ring. "The heart will be restless and weary And no memory cross my mind, I still wander in rooms dark and bleary And his crib still attempt to find."
8. * * * (We noiselessly walked through the house)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 3кб.
Часть текста: We noiselessly walked through the house, Not waiting for anything. They showed me way to the sick man, And I did not recognize him. He said, "Now let God have the glory" And became more thoughtful and blue. "It's long time that I hit the road, I've only been waiting for you. So you bother me in my fever, I keep those words from you. Tell me: can you not forgive me?" And I said, "I can do." It seemed, that the walls were shining From floor to the ceiling that day. Upon the silken blanket A withered arm lay. And the thrown-over predatory profile Became horribly heavy and stark, And one could not hear the breathing Through the bitten-up lips turned dark. But suddenly the last bit of strength Came alive in the eyes of blue: "It is good that you released me, Not always kind were you." And then the face became younger, And I recognized him once more. And then I said, "Holy Father, Accept a slave of yours."
9. * * * (Did for this, and for this only)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Did for this, and for this only, In my arms I carry you, Did for this the strength flash In your gorgeous eyes of blue? Tall and elegant you have grown, You sang songs, Madeira drank, To the far-off Anatolia You have driven your mine tank. On the Malahov's kurgan They shot an officer with a gun. Less than a week for 20 years He saw God's light with eyes so dear.
10. * * * (The other cranes shout "Cour-lee")
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: The other cranes shout "Cour-lee" Calling a wounded one When autumn fields around Are fallow and warm. And I, being sick, hear calling, The noise of golden wings From dense and low clouds And thick underbrush. "It's time to fly, it's time to fly, Over the field and river. For you already cannot sing And wipe a tear from a cheek With a weakened arm."