Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "FACE"
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 3кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Do not send a dove in my direction, Do not write tumultuous notes at all, Do not fan my face with the March breeze. I have now entered a green heaven, Where there's calm for body and for soul Underneath the shady maple trees. And from here I can see a town, Booths and barracks of a palace made of stone Chinese yellow bridge over the ice. For three hours now you wait for me - you're frozen, But you cannot move from the perron, At the stars you marvel with your eyes. Like a gray squirrel you'll jump on the alder, Like a frightful swallow I will go, I will then call for you like a swan, So that the bridegroom would not fear In the blue and swirling falling snow To await his deceased bride alone.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: City vanished, the last house's window Stared like one living and stark... This place is totally unfamiliar, Smells of burning, and field is dark. But when the curtain of thunder Moon had cut, indecisive and wan, We could see: On the hill, to the forest, Hobbled a handicapped man. It was frightening, that he's overcoming The three horses, sated and glad, He stood up and then again waddled Under his heavy load. We had almost failed to notice him Before the nomad-tent taking his place. Just like stars the blue eyes were shining, Lighting the tormented face. And I proffered to him the child, Raising arms with the trace of a chain He pronounced with joy and with ringing: "May your son live and healthy remain."
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."
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Часть текста: Ахматовой был Павел Николаевич Лукницкий (1902 - 1973), встречавшийся с ней почти ежедневно во второй половине 20-х годов. Прирожденный летописец (он вел дневник с 11 лет до самой смерти), он тщательно записывал обстоятельства и разговоры своих 2000 встреч с Акумой, как звали Ахматову в семье Пуниных: так родилась "Acumiana", свод пятилетних записей и собрание писем, документов, фотографий, к ней относящихся. 23-летний студент и начинающий стихотворец (из дворянской, до революции состоятельной петербургской семьи) задумал писать биографию своего любимого поэта, Николая Гумилева, и обратился за сведениями и помощью к Ахматовой. Первая встреча состоялась в декабре 1924 г. Ахматова приняла молодого исследователя, к тому же ее поклонника, более чем благосклонно. Павел Лукницкий стал вскоре у нее завсегдатаем, секретарем и близким другом. Сотрудничество и дружба продлились без малого пять лет. Но наступившие грозные события охладили исследовательский пыл Лукницкого и отдалили его от Ахматовой. Он понял, что увлечение поэтами серебряного века, особенно акмеистами, ставшими мишенью партийной критики, будущего не сулит и к добру не приведет. "Суровая эпоха", по выражению Ахматовой, больше применимому к ее молодому другу, чем к ней самой, ему "подменила жизнь": она потекла по другому руслу. Лукницкий принял безоговорочно и бесповоротно сторону социалистической революции, и с...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: We have grown old by hundred years, and this Happened to us in one hour then: The brief summer was already ending, Steamed the body of ploughed-up plain. Suddenly glistened the quiet road, Cry flew, ringing silverly.. Closing my face, I was praying to God Before first battle to murder me. From mind the shades of songs and passions Disappeared like load from misuse. To her - descended - the Almighty ordered To be the fearful book of menacing news.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: All has been taken: strength as well as love. Into the unloved town the corpse is thrown. It does not love the sun. I fear, that blood Inside of me already cold has grown. I do not recognize sweet Muse's loving taste: She looks ahead and does not let a word pass, And bows a head in the dark garland dressed Onto my chest, exhausted from the haste. And only conscience, scarier with each day, Wants a great ransom and for this abuses. Closing the face, I answer her this way.. But there remain no tears and no excuses.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: The first ray - as the blessing of the Lord - Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss... And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: God is unkind to gardeners and reapers. Slanted rain coils and falls from up high And the wide raincoats catch water, That once had reflected the sky. In underwater realm are fields and meadows And the free currents sing a lot, Plums rupture on bloated branches And grass strands, lying down, rot. And through the dense and watery net I see your darling face, A quiet park, a round porch And a Chinese arbour-place.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: The quiet April day has sent me What a strange missive. You knew that passionately in me The scary week is still alive. I did not hear those ringing bells That swam along in glazier clear. For seven days sounded copper laugh Or poured from eyes a silver tear. And I, then having closed my face As for eternal parting's moment, Lay down and waited for her grace That was not known yet as torment.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: My voice is weak, but will does not get weaker. It has become still better without love, The sky is tall, the mountain wind is blowing My thoughts are sinless to true God above. The sleeplessness has gone to other places, I do not on grey ashes count my sorrow, And the skewed arrow of the clock face Does not look to me like a deadly arrow. How past over the heart is losing power! Freedom is near. I will forgive all yet, Watching, as ray of sun runs up and down The springtime vine that with spring rain is wet.