Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "FIELD"
Входимость: 2. Размер: 3кб.
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Входимость: 1. Размер: 44кб.
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Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
Входимость: 2. Размер: 3кб.
Часть текста: I Smells like burning. For four weeks now The dry ground on the swamplands bakes. Today even birds did not sing songs And the aspen-tree does not shake. Sun has stopped in divine displeasure Easter rain did not pelt fields hard. A one-legged passerby came here And alone said in the yard: "Awful times near. For freshly dug graves There will be not be enough place soon. Expect pest, expect plague, expect coward, And eclipses of Sun and Moon. But the enemy won't get to divide Our lands for his fun: Holy Mary will spread on her own Over great sorrows a white gown" II From the burning forests is flying Sweet smell of the evergreens. Over children soldiers' wives are moaning Cry of widows through village rings. Not in vain were the prayers rendered, The earth was thirsty for rain: The stomped-over fields with red dampness Were covered and covered remain. Low, low is the empty heaven, And quiet is the praying one's voice: "They will wound your most holy body And cast dice about your acts of choice."
Входимость: 2. 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."
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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.
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Часть текста: On the blooming lilac bushes Sky is sowing the light rain. Beats with wings upon the window The white, the white Spirits' day. For a friend to be returning From the sea - especial hour. I am dreaming of the far shore, Of the stone, sand and tower. I will enter, meeting light, On the top of one of these towers. In the land of swamps and fields There are in memory no towers. Only I will sit on the porch, There, where dense shadows lay. Help me in my fright, at last, The white, the white Spirits' day.
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Часть текста: Ah! It is you again. You enter in this house Not as a kid in love, but as a husband Courageous, harsh and in control. The calm before the storm is fearful to my soul. You ask me what it is that I have done of late With given unto me forever love and fate. I have betrayed you. And this to repeat - Oh, if you could one moment tire of it! The killer's sleep is haunted, dead man said, Death's angel thus awaits me at deathbed. Forgive me now. Lord teaches to forgive. In burning agony my flesh does live, And already the spirit gently sleeps, A garden I recall, tender with autumn leaves And cries of cranes, and the black fields around.. How sweet it would be with you underground!
Входимость: 1. Размер: 44кб.
Часть текста: Над водой Надпись на книге Надпись на неоконченном портрете Надпись на портрете Нас четверо (Комаровские наброски) Наследница Наяву Новогодняя баллада Ночью О. Мандельштаму Обман Он любил Освобожденная Ответ (Какие странные слова) Отрывок Отрывок из поэмы (В то время я гостила на земле) Памяти 19 июля 1914 Памяти Александра Блока Памяти Анты Памяти Бориса Пильняка Памяти друга Памяти М.А. Булгакова Памяти М.М.З. Памяти Н.В.Н. Памяти Н.П. Первое возвращение Первый дальнобойный в Ленинграде Песенка (Таинственной невстречи) Песенка (Я на солнечном восходе) Песня о песне Песня последней встречи Побег Победителям Подвал памяти Подмосковное Подражание И.Ф.Анненскому Портрет автора в молодости Последнее возвращение Последнее стихотворение Последний тост Последняя песенка Последняя роза Похороны Почти в альбом Поэма без героя Предыстория Приморский сонет Причитание (Господеви поклонитеся) Причитание (Ленинградскую беду) Про стихи Нарбута Прогулка Путем всея земли Пушкин Разлука (Вечерний и наклонный) Разлука (Вот и берег северного моря) Распятие Реквием Родная земля Рыбак Сад Сероглазый король Смерть Софокла Смятение Современница Согражданам Сожженная тетрадь Сон (Был вещим этот сон или не вещим) Сон (Я знала, я снюсь тебе) Сонет Сонет-эпилог (Не пугайся, - я еще похожей) Стансы (Стрелецкая луна. Замоскворечье... Ночь) Статуя "Ночь" в Летнем саду Стихи о Петербурге Творчество Третий Зачатьевский Три осени У самого моря Уединение Утешение Учитель (памяти Иннокентия Анненского) Хозяйка Художнику Царскосельская ода Царскосельская статуя Через много лет Читатель Читая Гамлета Эпиграмма (Могла ли Биче словно Дант творить) Эхо Явление луны Answer Consolation December 9, 1913 Escape Heimkehr...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: He walked over fields and over village, And asked people from afar: "Where is she, where is the happy glimmer Of her eyes that are gray stars? Here the final days of spring Come along, in turbid fire. Still more frequent, still more tender Are the dreams I have of her." And he came in the dark city In the quiet evening time He was thinking then of Venice And of London all the same. At the church both tall and dark Stepped on shining stairs' granite And he prayed then of the coming Meeting with his first delight. And above the altar made of gold Flamed away the garden of God's rays: "Here she is, here is the happy glimmer Of gray joyous stars that are her eyes."
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Часть текста: Village of the Tsar Statue White House * * * (Ah! It is you again. You enter in this house) * * * (All has been taken: strength as well as love) * * * (All promised him to me) * * * (All year long you are close to me) * * * (Ancient city is as if dead) * * * (Before the spring arrives there are such days) * * * (Best for me loudly the gaming-poems to say) * * * (Black road wove ahead of me) * * * (Bow of moon I see, I see) * * * (City vanished, the last house's window) * * * (Did for this, and for this only) * * * (Did not scold me, did not praise me) * * * (Divine angel, who betrothed us) * * * (Every evening I receive) * * * (From memory of you I will remove that day) * * * (God is unkind to gardeners and reapers) * * * (Has my fate really been so altered) * * * (He walked over fields and over village) * * * (He was jealous, fearful and tender) * * * (How can you look at Nieva) * * * (How I love, how I loved to stare) * * * (How often did I curse) * * * (How spacious are these squares) * * * (I came over to the pine forest) * * * (I do not count mortal days) * * * (I dream less of him, dear God be gloried) * * * (I have ceased and desisted from smiling) * * * (I have visions of hilly Pavlovsk) * * * (I know, that you are my reward) * * * (I myself have freely chosen) * * * (I remember you only rarely) * * * (I see capital through the flurry) * * * (I was born not late and not early) * * * (I will lead a man to dear one) * * * (I will quietly in the churchyard) * * * (Immortelle's dry and pink. On the fresh heaven) * * * (In boat or in horsecart) * * * (In intimacy there exists a line) * * * (In Kievan temple of the divine...
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."