Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "WIND"

Часть текста: Before the spring arrives there are such days: Under the thick snow cover rests the lawn, The dry-and-jolly trees are making noise, Tender and strong, the wind is warm. And body is amazed at its own lightness, And your own home is alien to you, And song that had just previously been tiring With worry you are singing just like new.

2. * * * (Somewhere is light and happy, in elation)

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Часть текста: Somewhere is light and happy, in elation, Transparent, warm and simple life there is. A man across the fence has conversation With girl before the evening, and the bees Hear only the tenderest of conversation. And we are living pompously and hard And follow bitter rituals like sun When, flight past us, the unreasoned wind Interrupts speech that's barely begun. But not for anything will we change the pompous Granite city of glory, pain and lies, The glistening wide rivers' ice Sunless and murky gardens, and the voice, Though barely audible, of the Muse.

3. * * * (My voice is weak, but will does not get weaker)

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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.

4. * * * (It seems as though the voice of man)

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Часть текста: It seems as though the voice of man Will never sound in this place, But only wind from age of stone Is knocking on black gates. It seems to me that I alone Have kept good health under this sky, Because of this, that first I sought To drink the deadly wine.

5. * * * (Why do you pretend to be)

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Часть текста: Why do you pretend to be A wind, a bird, or a stone? Why do you smile at me From the sky with a sudden dawn? Do not torment me, do not touch! Leave me to wise cares, away! The inebriated flame sways Over dried-up marshes gray. And Muse in a torn kerchief Sings disconsolate and at length. In harsh and youthful anguish Is her miraculous strength.

6. 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.

7. * * * (All promised him to me)

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Часть текста: All promised him to me: The heaven's edge, dark and kind, And lovely Christmas sleep And multi-ringing Easter wind, And the red branches of a twig, And waterfalls inside a park, And two dragonflies On rusty iron of a bulwark. And I could not disbelieve, That he'll befriend me all alone When on the mountain slopes I went Along hot pathway made of stone.

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

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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.

9. * * * (Divine angel, who betrothed us)

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Часть текста: Divine angel, who betrothed us Secretly on winter morn, From our sadness-free existence Does not take his darkened eyes. For this reason we love sky, And fresh wind, and air so thin, And the dark tree branches Behind fence of iron. For this reason we love the strict, Many-watered, and dark city, And we love the parting, And brief meetings' hour.

10. * * * (When with a strong but tired hand)

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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.

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "WIND"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "WIND"