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    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
    Поиск  
    1. Consolation
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    2. * * * (All year long you are close to me)
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    3. * * * (Best for me loudly the gaming-poems to say)
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    4. White House
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    5. * * * (They're on the way, the words of love and freedom)
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    6. Найман Анатолий: Рассказы о Анне Ахматовой (Воспоминания). Страница 5
    Входимость: 1. Размер: 51кб.

    Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

    1. Consolation
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    Часть текста: You won't hear about him any longer, You won't hear about him in the wind, In the mournful fire-consumed Poland His grave you will not find. May your spirit be still an peaceful, There will be no losses now: He is new warrior of God's army, Do not be about him in sorrow. In the dear, beloved home It's sinful to cry and feel blue. Think, now you can make prayer To the man who stood up for you.
    2. * * * (All year long you are close to me)
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    Часть текста: All year long you are close to me And, like formerly, happy and young! Aren't you tortured already By the traumatized strings' dark song? Those now only lightly moan That once, taut, loudly rang And aimlessly they are torn By my dry, waxen hand. Little is necessary to make happy One who is tender and loving yet, The young forehead is not touched yet By jealousy, rage or regret. He is quiet, does not ask to be tender, Only stares and stares at me And with blissful smile does he bear My oblivion's dreadful insanity.
    3. * * * (Best for me loudly the gaming-poems to say)
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    Часть текста: Best for me loudly the gaming-poems to say, And for you the hoarse harmonica to play! And having left, hugging, for the night of late, Lose a band from a stiff, tight plait. Best for me your child to rock and sway, And for you to make fifty rubles in a day, And to go on memory day to cemetery There to look upon the white God's lilac tree.
    4. White House
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    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.
    5. * * * (They're on the way, the words of love and freedom)
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    Часть текста: They're on the way, the words of love and freedom, They're flying faster than the moment flies And I am in stage fright before singing - My lips have grown colder than ice. But soon that place, where, leaning to the windows The tender birches make dry rustling sound, The voices will be ringing of the shadows And roses will in blackened wreaths be wound. And further onward still - the light is generous Unbearably as though ‘t were red hot wine.. And now the wind, all redolent and heated, In perfect vigor has enflamed my mind.

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