Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "WANDER"

1. * * * (The first ray - as the blessing of the Lord)

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

2. * * * (Has my fate really been so altered)

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3. * * * (The spring was still mysteriously swooning)

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

4. * * * (I have visions of hilly Pavlovsk)

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

5. * * * (Where is your gypsy boy, tall one)

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1. * * * (The first ray - as the blessing of the Lord)

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: The first ray - as the blessing of the Lord - Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss... And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.

2. * * * (Has my fate really been so altered)

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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.

3. * * * (The spring was still mysteriously swooning)

Входимость: 1. Размер: 2кб.

Часть текста: The spring was still mysteriously swooning, Across the hills wandered transparent wind And the deep lake was growing blue among us - A temple forged and kept not by mankind. You were affrighted of our first encounter, And prayed already for the second one, And now today once more is the hot evening - How low over the mountain dropped the sun.. You aren't with me, but this is not a parting: For me triumphant news is in each moment. I know that you can't even pronounce a word For so complete within you is the torment.

4. * * * (I have visions of hilly Pavlovsk)

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Часть текста: I have visions of hilly Pavlovsk, Meadow circular, water dead, With most heavy and most shady, All of this I will never forget. In the cast-iron gates you will enter, Blissful tremor the flesh does rile, You don't live, but you're screaming and ranting Or you live in another style. In late autumn fresh and biting Wanders wind, for its loneliness glad. In white gowns dressed the black fir trees On the molten snow stand. And, filled up with a burning fever, Dear voice sounds like song without word, And on copper shoulder of Cytharus Sits the red-chested bird.

5. * * * (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."