Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "HEART"


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. * * * (In intimacy there exists a line)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
2. * * * (Just like a cold noreaster)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
3. * * * (Where is your gypsy boy, tall one)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
4. * * * (I was born not late and not early)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
5. * * * (He was jealous, fearful and tender)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
6. * * * (Black road wove ahead of me)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
7. * * * (I myself have freely chosen)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
8. * * * (I remember you only rarely)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
9. * * * (Bow of moon I see, I see)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
10. * * * (My voice is weak, but will does not get weaker)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. * * * (In intimacy there exists a line)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: In intimacy there exists a line That can't be crossed by passion or love's art - In awful silence lips melt into one And out of love to pieces bursts the heart. And friendship here is impotent, and years Of happiness sublime in fire aglow, When soul is free and does not hear The dulling of sweet passion, long and slow. Those who are striving toward it are in fever, But those that reach it struck with woe that lingers. Now you have understood, why forever My heart does not beat underneath your fingers.
2. * * * (Just like a cold noreaster)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Just like a cold noreaster At first she'll sting, And then a single salty tear The heart will wring. The evil heart will pity Something and then regret. But this light-headed sadness It will not forget. I only sow. To harvest. Others will come. And yes! The lovely group of harvesters May true God bless. And that more perfectly I could Give to you gratitude, Allow me to give the world Love incorruptible.
3. * * * (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."
4. * * * (I was born not late and not early)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: I was born not late and not early, This time is blessed and meet, Only God did not allow a heart To live long without deceit. And from this it is dark in the light room, And from this do the friends I've sought, Like the sorrowful birds of evening, Sing of love that was not.
5. * * * (He was jealous, fearful and tender)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: He was jealous, fearful and tender, He loved me like God's only light, And that she not sing of the past times He killed my bird colored white. He said, in the lighthouse at sundown: "Love me, laugh and write poetry!" And I buried the joyous songbird Behind a round well near a tree. I promised that I would not mourn her. But my heart turned to stone without choice, And it seems to me that everywhere And always I'll hear her sweet voice.
6. * * * (Black road wove ahead of me)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Black road wove ahead of me, Drizzling rain fell, To accompany me Someone asked for a spell. I agreed, but I forgot To see him in light of day, And then it was strange To remember the way. Like incense of thousand censers Flowed the fog And the companion bothered The heart with a song. Ancient gates I remember And the end of the way - There the man who went with me "Forgive," did say. He gave me a copper cross Like my brother very own And everywhere I hear the sound Of the steppe song. Here I am at home like home - I cry and I am in rue Answer to me, my stranger, I am looking for you!
7. * * * (I myself have freely chosen)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: I myself have freely chosen Fate of the friend of my heart: To the freedom under gospel I allowed him to depart. And the pigeon came back, beating On the window with all might Like from shine of divine restments, In the room it became light.
8. * * * (I remember you only rarely)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: I remember you only rarely And your fate I do not view But the mark won't be stripped from my soul Of the meaningless meeting with you. Your red house I avoid on purpose, Your red house murky river beside, But I know, that I am disturbing Gravely your heart-pierced respite. Would it weren't you that, on to my lips pressing, Prayed of love, and for love did wish, Would it weren't you that with golden verses Immortalized my anguish Over future I do secret magic If the evening is truly blue, And I divine a second meeting, Unavoidable meeting with you.
9. * * * (Bow of moon I see, I see)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Bow of moon I see, I see Through dense canopy of groves, Level sound I hear, I hear Of the free horse's hooves. What? And you don't want to sleep, In a year could you forget Me, nor are you used to find Empty and unmade your bed? Not with you then do I speak Through sharp cries of hunting birds, Not in your eyes do I look From white pages full of words? Why you circle, like a thief At the quiet habitat? Or recall the verdict and Wait for me alive like that? I'm asleep. In dense dark, moon Threw a blade just like a dart. There is knocking. In this way Beats my warm and precious heart.
10. * * * (My voice is weak, but will does not get weaker)
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.