Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "GIVEN"
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Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
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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.
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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!
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Часть текста: In the sleep to me is given Our last eden of stars up high City of clean water towers, Golden Bakchisarai There behind a colored fencing By the pensive water stalled Village of the Tsar's gardens With rejoicing we recalled. And the eagles of Catherine Suddenly recognized - it's that! He had flown to valley bottom From the ornate bronze-clad gate. That the song of parting heartache In the memory longer lives, The dark-bodied mother autumn Brought to me the redding leaves And she sprinkled on her soles Where we parted in the sun And from where for land of shadows You had left, my soothing one.
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Часть текста: To lose the freshness of the words and sense, for us, Is it same as for an artist to lose vision, Or for an actor - voice and motion, Or for a gorgeous woman - her finesse? But do not seek now for yourself to keep What heaven has given to you below: We have been judged - and we ourselves both know - To give away, and not to keep. Or else alone you go to heal the blind, To know yourself in heavy hour of doubt The students' smug shaudenfreude And the uncaring of mankind.
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Часть текста: поэме Гибель Голос памяти Гости Гость Данте Два отрывка из сказки "О черном кольце" Двустишие (От других мне хвала - что зола) Дорожная песенка Другая песенка Заклинание Заре Застольная песенка Ива Из книги бытия Из поэмы "1913 год" Измена Имя Исповедь Июль 1914 К смерти К стихам Кавказское Клеопатра Колыбельная Конец Демона Кукушка Ленинград в марте 1941 Ленинградские элегии. Пятая Ленинградские элегии. Четвертая Летний сад Лишняя песенка Любовная песенка Любовь Майский снег Мартовская элегия Маскарад в парке Мелхола Милому Моему городу Молитва Мужество Муза Музе Музыка На Смоленском 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...
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Часть текста: 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 wisdom) * * * (In the sleep to me is given) * * * (Instead of wisdom - experience, bare) * * * (It seems as though the voice of man) * * * (Just like a cold noreaster) * * * (Like a white stone at the bottom of the well) * * * (My shadow has remained there and is angstful) * * * (My voice is weak, but will does not get weaker) * * * (No, my prince, I am not the one) * * * (Not mystery and not sadness) * * * (Not thus, from cursed lightness having...
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Часть текста: Upon fresh ground falls and melts At once unnoticed a thin film. The harsh and chilly spring The ripened buds does kill. Sight of early death is so horrid That I can't look at God's creation, and am riven With sadness, to which king David Millenia of life has given.
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Часть текста: When with a strong but tired hand In dreary capital of nation Upon the whiteness of the page I did record my recantations, And wind into the window round Poured in a wet and silent stream The sky was burning, burning bright With smoky dawn, it so did seem. I did not look at the Nieva, The dawn-drenched granite did not view, And it appeared that that I, awake, my Unforgettable, saw you.. But then the unexpected night Covered the before-autumn town, That, so as to assist my flight, The ashen shadows melted down. I only took with me the cross, That you had given on day of treason That wormwood steppe should be in bloom And winds, like sirens, sing in season. And here upon an empty wall He keeps me from the broodings dour And I don't fear to recall Anything - even the final hour.