Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "SHORE"


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. * * * (Has my fate really been so altered)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
2. * * * (I dream less of him, dear God be gloried)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
3. * * * (How I love, how I loved to stare)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
4. * * * (On the blooming lilac bushes)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. * * * (Has my fate really been so altered)
Входимость: 2. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Has my fate really been so altered, Or is this game truly truly over? Where are winters, when I fell asleep In the morning in the sixth hour? In a new way, severely and calmly, I now live on the wild shore. I can no longer pronounce The tender or idle word. I can't believe that Christmas-tide is coming. Touchingly green is this the steppe before The beaming sun. Like a warm Wave, licks the tender shore. When from happiness languid and tired I was, then of such quiet With trembling inexpressible I dreamed And this in my imagining I deemed The after-mortal wandering of the soul.
2. * * * (I dream less of him, dear God be gloried)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: I dream less of him, dear God be gloried, Does not shimmer everywhere any more. Fog has fallen on the whitened road, Shadows run over water to the shore. And all day the ringing did not quiet Over the expanse of ploughed up soil, Here most powerfully from Jonah Distant Laurel belltowers do recoil. I am trimming on the lilac bushes Branches, that are now in full flower; Ramparts of the ancient fortifying Two old monks are slowly walking over. Dear world, understood and corporeal, For me, one unseeing, set alive. Heal this soul of mine, the King of Heaven, With the icy comfort of not love.
3. * * * (How I love, how I loved to stare)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: How I love, how I loved to stare At the ironclad shores, On the balcony, where forever No foot stepped, not mine, not yours. And in truth you are - a capital For the mad and luminous us; But when over Nieva sail Those special, pure hours And the winds of May fly over You past the iron beams You are like a dying sinner Seeing heavenly dreams
4. * * * (On the blooming lilac bushes)
Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.
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.