Philosophy of Love. V. SpeysЧитать онлайн книгу.
the voices of birds, migrants, choir
Sings. Trees listen naked
Spring a diverse voices bird.
Carpets, faded herbs dry
Spring laid a field and meadows.
And the sky looks with puddles blue eyes
On the gray hills of haystacks.
Clear air with smoky distances
With an invigorating freshness his drunk.
And strokes cheeks with gentle palms
And behind him in the trail beckons me.
And you go by the hand with the wind,
Inhaling the delicate scent of Spring.
And the world seems even more beautiful
In a fit of a timid fairy tale Spring.
Spring motifs
Cheerful rain pours warm
Runs in a stream, a water call.
And the cloud, the tambourine beats,
And him a shadow runs, plays the ground.
A wreath in the sky with a rainbow blooms,
Weave ribbon-lightning into braids.
And the wind sings a May song,
In the orchestra here, spring melodies.
Spring, as if the girl is leading her
On marital dance with thunder.
The earth gives flowers in dowry,
And the sky gives the rainbow color.
Three poplars
– Three poplars stood by the road
With a branchy crown, noisy foliage.
Dressed in green, clothes toga,
They were the guardians of the village in the spring.
Mats the sun with the first rays
Crowns welcoming sunrise.
And Morning hugged branches-hands
Notifying people of the day coming.
But to stand under the power of a hurricane
Not destined to mighty poplars!
That, lonely, at the road mound,
Birch sadly told people.
I do not understand you
I do not understand you.
My love words are empty to you.
But I have no control over myself,
And forget the familiar features.
Forget your familiar eyes.
Weeping willow – hair.
And the purity of the diamond,
Hot drops of your tears.
Forget the warmth of a caressing hand.
And the whiteness of a tender smile
And peach fluff cheeks,
And curls on the forehead negligent.
Forget you – forget the Spring.
And the smell of grass in the flowering summer.
But, feelings, surging wave,
I cannot forget, in a fit of light!
I will not forget
Hoping you wait,
What I will come to you,
What you tight hug,
And I will be happy.
But in vain do not cry,
Quiet in the bed sheet,
You will listen to night
Voice of vernal drops.
I won’t sing for you
I will not warm myself.
After all, my love is
I will not forget with you.
I will not forget an hour
Kiss hot.
Sheltered the night to us
Month the watchman was us.
Morning summer dawn
The sun poured us.
The day shone with warmth.
Quickly dried dew.
The sun poured us.
The day shone with warmth.
Intoxicated with beauty
Girl soft hair.
Autumn is drizzling
Autumn is drizzling
Small shot of rain.
In the puddles leaves warm,
In the gloom Sun.
The branches are bare stretch,
Wet five
Trying to grab
In the puddle the ray is golden.
But, in vain try
Jump into the cold water.
Scooped and deceived
No lively warmth.
And there are sad
Groves in a wet swell.
To the sky pulled away
Crowns of passionate pleading.
Sect larch slender
The trees will sing.
In the jets of the wind submissive
The sun will call in vain.
Will not warm autumn
By its gentle ray.
Only the spring sun
The cold will be driven away by.
Blizzard snowstorm
Move back to the snow.
Spring will let the outskirts of
Walk through the meadows.
Twisted fingers twigs
Will put foliage.
Puddles of mirror-saucer
Decorate yourself.
Star of Love
The sky is smoked by fog
Bright day veiled swarthy.
And the wound becomes sharper
Disturbed feelings of relatives.
Heart pain shrinks steeper,
And sad in half with the