Poems that you liked.

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 03 Oct 2023, 23:20

When there is no feeling in you, all this is aimless work;
No, speech should strive from the soul,
So that with the charm of truthful, genuine
Touch and captivate people’s hearts!
And you? Sit and sprinkle,
Pick up scraps from other people’s feasts -
And there will be a colorful vinaigrette
Warmed with a fake flame.
When that is your taste - perhaps this
You will please fools and children;
But speech will not attract heart to heart,
If your speech does not flow from the heart.

https://i.postimg.cc/tCwcwFSB/photo-2023-09-05-18-37-47.jpg

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 05 Oct 2023, 05:54

What is beautiful is a hundred times more beautiful
When beauty is crowned with nobility.
So a rose will delight not only the eye:
There is superiority in a delicate aroma.

The rose hip is similar to a fragrant rose,
When the bud is opened by the breath of summer:
The spines are the same, it is just as good,
Sometimes the same color as the rose.

But he is beautiful and - only: emptiness
A handsome man leaves behind after death,
And a rose, dying, pours beauty
into the most delicate perfume.
And you are like a rose: delighting the ear
Your sweet spirit will flow into verse.

https://i.postimg.cc/KvfWdD7y/photo-2023-10-04-15-02-01.jpg

Unread post by **sensitive** » 05 Oct 2023, 10:10

https://i.postimg.cc/PqhygtsF/IMG-20231005-220901.jpg

Unread post by **Venus** » 05 Oct 2023, 10:50

A Tale of Rain

1

Rain has not left me since the morning.
— Oh, get rid of it! - I spoke rudely.
He retreated, but faithfully and sadly
he followed me again, like a little daughter.
The rain, like a wing, grew to my back.
I reproached him: “Shame, you scoundrel!”
The gardener is crying out to you!
Go to the flowers! What did you find in me?
Meanwhile, there was severe heat all around.
The rain was with me, forgetting about everything in the world.
Children danced around me,
like near the sprinkler machine.
I, with cunning in my soul, entered the cafe.
I hid behind a table covered with a niche.
The rain settled outside the window like a beggar,
and through the glass he wanted to come to me.
I went out. And my cheek was punished with a slap of moisture, but then the Rain, in sorrow and courage, washed my lips with the smell of a puppy. I think that the view is mine became ridiculous.
I tied a damp handkerchief around my neck.
The rain sat on my shoulder like a monkey
. And the city was embarrassed by this.
Delighted by my weakness,
he tickled my ear with a child’s finger.
The drought was deepening. Everything was dry.
And only I was wet to the bone.

2

But I was invited to that house,
where they strictly waited for my greetings,
where over the amber lake of the parquet
the clear moon rose from the chandeliers.
I thought: what should I do with the Rain?
After all, he is with He won’t want to part with me.
He will inherit there. He will wet the carpets.
Yes, they won’t let me into the house with him at all.
I sternly explained: - Kindness
is strong in me, but still not limitless.
nIt’s indecent for you to walk with me. —
The rain looked at me like an orphan.
—Well, to hell with you,” I decided, “go!”
What kind of love have you showered on me?
Ah, this strange climate, damn it! —
Forgiven Rain jumped in front.

3

The owner of the house showed me an honor
which I was not worth. However,
wetted all over my skin, like a muskrat,
I rang the bell at the door exactly at six.
The rain, lurking behind my back,
breathed down the back of my head pitifully and ticklingly .
Steps - peephole - silence - latch.
I apologized: - This Rain is with me.
Please, will he stay on the porch?
It is too wet, too extended
for rooms. - Is that so? - said the surprised
owner, his face changing.

4

I must admit, I loved this house.
B Here she always performed her ballet with lightness.
Oh, here the corners don’t hurt your elbow,
here your finger won’t be cut by a knife.
I loved everything: how slowly the housewife’s silks crunch, shaded by a scarf,
and, most of all, captivated by the closet—
my sleeping princess—crystal.
That seven-blush pink spectrum,
in a glass coffin, dead and adorable.
But I woke up. The greeting ritual,
like an opera, was danced and sung.

5

The lady of the house, to be honest,
nshe would certainly not have loved me,
but her timidity to act out of date
slightly interfered with her, which was in vain.
—How are you doing? (Oh the shine of a thunderstorm,
humble in the thin neck of a proud woman!)
-Thank you, - I said, - in a fever
I was lying like a pig in the mud.
(Something was happening to me this time.
After all, I wanted, bowing weakly,
to say: - Although I live in vain, I live gloriously,
especially since again I see you.)
She said: “I scold you.”
For mercy, such talent!
Through the rain! And the distances are remote! —
Everyone cried out: “To her fire, to the fire!”
— Someday, in another time,
in the square, amid music and war,
We could have met at the drum,
You would have cried out: “Into her fire, into the fire!”
For everything! For the rain! For after! Here’s to you then!
For the warlock of two blackest pupils,
for the sounds from your lips, like cherry seeds,
flying without any difficulty!
Hello to you! Aim a jump at me.
Fire, my brother, my multilingual dog!
Lick my hands in great tenderness!
You are also Rain! How wet your burn is!
“Your somewhat bizarre monologue,”
said the owner, wounded. —
But, however, glory to the green shoots!
There is a charm in the young generation.
—Don’t listen to me! After all, I’m delirious! —
I asked. - Rain did all this.
He executed me like a demon all day.
Yes, it was Rain that got me into trouble.
And suddenly I saw - there, in the window,
my faithful Rain stood alone and cried.
In my eyes two tears floated
only a trace of him remained in me.

6
One of the guests, holding out a glass,
foggy, like a dove over the cornice,
asked with hostility and capriciousness:
- Tell me, is it true? that your husband is rich?
— Is he rich? Don’t know. Not quite.
But he is rich. His job is easy.
Do you want to know a secret? - There is something
incurably poor in me.
I taught him witchcraft -
there was such frankness in me -
he will immediately convert any value
in a circle on the water, in an animal or in the grass.
I will prove it to you! Give me the ring.
Let’s save the star from the cramped ring! —
She didn’t give me the ring, of course
removing her face in bewilderment.
— And, you know, one more detail -
I’m tempted to die under the fence.
(My tongue was so inflamed with nonsense.
Oh, it was Rain repeating his dictation to me.)

7

Everything, Rain, you will remember later!
Another guest, in a deep voice,
inquired: - Gifted by God
Who gives gifts? And in what way?
Like a rattle, a chill rattled through me:
-God comes, happy and joyful,
a little old-fashioned, like a professor,
and with your grace overshadows forehead.
And then fly up and down,
breaking your elbows and knees into blood
about the snow, about the air, about the corners of Quarenghi,
about the sheets of the hospital hotel .
St. Basil, in the battlements,
do you remember that sharp dome? Imagine -
all my skin on him! - Yes, sit down! -
she pulled me back in her hearts.

8

Meanwhile, for the joy of the guests,
something was happening - something new, dear:
they let a lace,
silver cloud of children into the living room.
Mistress, forgive me, I’m angry!
I kept lying, I acted badly!
In you, as on the lips of a glass blower,
the exhalation of pure glass appeared.
A vessel saturated with your soul,
your child, cast so tenderly!
How precise is the contour that outlines something!
I didn’t know about that, don’t blame me.
Mistress, your animal genius
in the despair of the universe and the all-night vigil
over your brainchild , oh, over the great son
he hangs his head.
The rain called my lips to her hand.
I cried: - Forgive me! Forgive me!
Your eyes are wise and pure!

9

Then a chorus of children appeared not far away:
Our number was announced.
The mouth of babies. Creepy.
We are apples from apple trees.
This is our revenge and the essence.
Attention! Baby talk.
We won’t let you down.
It’s not for nothing that the fireplace is magnificent, warming the house.
There is a sweet cold in the shoulder blades
and the tips of two wings .
Aluminum
covers our skin like frost.
To make life not boring,
we are sometimes touched by
art, art, the child is a stranger.
Raininess is a mistake
empty skies. Hurray!
Oh vulgarity, you are not meanness,
you are just the comfort of the mind.
From pain and from anger
you will save us later.
We kiss , queen,
your velvet hem!

10

Laziness, like a disease, closed a circle in me.
nMy shoulder led someone else’s hand.
I, like a chick, warmed a glass in my palm.
Her open beak squeaked.
Mistress, you felt sadness
over the boy, falling asleep early in the morning,
in his mouth, in that hungry wound
poisoned, spilling chest?
Suddenly, in him, like in a mother-of-pearl egg,
the spring of bent music slept?
Like a rainbow - in a bud of white paint?
Like a secret muscle of beauty - in the face?
Like in Sashenka - an unawakened Blok?
Bear, what kind of fun are you for
with loving teeth
they snapped out God like fleas?

11

The hostess poured me some cognac:
—You are feeling feverish. Warm yourself by the fireplace. —
Farewell, my Rain! How fun, how sweet
to take the frost on the tip of your tongue!
How strongly the rose smells from the wine!
Wine, only you are not to blame for anything.
In me the atom of the grape is split,
a war of two different roses is burning in me.
My wine, I am your lost prince,
tied to two bowed trees.
Disconnect! Don’t be afraid! With a ringing
let the execution separate me from me!
I am becoming more and more, more and more kind!
Look - I am already kind, like a clown
overturned at your feet bow!
It’s too cramped for me among the windows and doors!
Oh my God, what kindness!
Hurry! Sorry to the point of tears! Fall to your knees!
I love you! The shyness of a cripple
makes my cheeks pale and my lips curl.
What can I do for you at least once?
Offend me! Do not be sorry, offending!
Here is my skin - naked, large:
like a canvas for paints, a clear space for wounds!
I love you beyond measure and shame!
My arms are round like the heavens.
We are from the same font. We are all brothers.
My boy, Rain! Come here quickly!

12

A quick chill ran down your spine.
In the silence, a terrible scream of the hostess was heard.
nAnd rusty, orange signs
suddenly floated onto the white ceiling.
And - the Rain poured down! They caught him in the basin.
Brooms and brushes dug into him.
He struggled. It flew onto the cheeks,
it stood up in front of the eyes like transparent blindness.
An accidental cancan danced.
It rang, playing with the resurrected crystal.
The House above the Rain was already closing its grinding noise,
Like a trap tearing off muscles.
Rain with an expression of affection and melancholy,
smearing the parquet, crawled towards me on its belly.
Men into it, lifting their trousers, having tried it on, they drove in the heels.
They tied him up with a rag
and squeezed him out, with disdain, in the restroom.
With my larynx, suddenly hoarse and wretched,
I shouted: - Do not touch! He is mine!
He was alive, like an animal or a child.
Oh, your children live in misfortune and torment!
Blind hands that don’t know secrets
why do you dipped in the blood of Rain?
The owner of the house whispered: - Keep in mind
you will still answer for this meeting! —
I laughed: “I know what I will answer.
You are ugly.” Let me pass.

13

The sight of my trouble scared passers-by.
I said: - Nothing. Leave it.
This too will pass. — On the dry asphalt
I kissed a speck of water.
The nakedness of the earth was overheating,
and the horizon around the city was pink.
Forecast Bureau thrown into fear
there was never any promise of precipitation.

(c) Bella Akhmadulina.

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 05 Oct 2023, 23:43

https://i.postimg.cc/pXMpFPC2/photo-2023-10-06-09-43-11.jpg

И будет столько в жизни трещин,
Но ты в ней главное пойми —
Что в ней важны совсем не вещи,
А то, что есть между людьми.

Все то, что спрятать невозможно,
Продать, разбить, в чулан закрыть,
Горит, пульсирует под кожей
Всех нас связующая нить.

Не завязать узлом в котомку,
Не положить на депозит
Глаза родных и смех ребенка,
Любовь, которую искрит.

Рассвет, крадущийся сквозь шторы,
Туман над заводью реки,
За полночь в кухне разговоры,
Тепло протянутой руки.

И что-то тонкое трепещет,
И ширится души проём,
Людьми нас делают не вещи,
А все, чем дышим и живем.

Отправлено спустя 2 часа 24 минуты 29 секунд:
https://i.postimg.cc/rmNWhBbv/photo-2023-10-06-12-07-20.jpg

Как доброго лица не прозевать,
Как честных отличить наверняка мне?
Все научились маски надевать,
Чтоб не разбить своё лицо о камни.

Я в тайну масок всё-таки проник,
Уверен я, что мой анализ точен,
Что маски равнодушья у иных —
Защита от плевков и от пощёчин.

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 09 Oct 2023, 00:21

https://i.postimg.cc/nLwVzQwF/photo-2023-10-05-14-20-59.jpg

А любить можно даже не видясь,
Не встречаясь под белой луной.
И не зная, как можно, обидясь,
Хлопнуть дверь, уходя, за собой.

А любить можно даже не слыша
Голос близко, что шепчет «Люблю».
И не чувствуя вкус поцелуя,
Что подарит всю сладость свою.

А любить можно даже не глядя
В глубину красоты чьих-то глаз.
Не касаясь руками в объятьях,
Что теплом согревали б ни раз.

А любить можно даже не зная
Все привычки и вкусы, доход.
Сколько ложечек кто-то для чая
В кружку сахара утром кладёт.

А любить можно даже так просто,
Ни за что-то, душой прикипеть.
Потому лишь, что этот вот кто-то
Образует с тобой одну нить.

А любить можно сильно и крепко,
Даже если далёк человек.
Ведь любовь не зависит от метров,
Когда есть притяженье сердец.

Unread post by **Alice** » 09 Oct 2023, 02:01

SeRg !$!, what interesting poems...
This is a real salvation for a yearning heart... for a tormented soul....

Unread post by **Venus** » 09 Oct 2023, 02:10

People hate people, unfortunately.
People tear people apart.
Life is wasted on unnecessary arguments.
Tall people build fences...

nI want a drop of support and light
Just give without giving advice,
Without reproaching or condemning,
But someone else’s speck irritates me.

People they want changes, changes,
But they start with others, unfortunately.
The efforts of the ancestors are destroying the foundations.
There are no traces of compassion in the new souls!

I would like to believe that this is temporary,
The planet is just a little sick
Wars, anger, and other melancholy.
Soon he will see the light and open his eyes...

People will wake up and strive
To give happiness on joyful faces
There will be no more shadow of anger.
Everyone is a creator and a talented genius...

People will come to their senses and on the path
They will no longer trip up others.
They will not go over their heads, despising
Those who dream of happiness differently.

And little by little, scattering goodness,
People will rise up, their souls will come to life...
The Lord will cool anger and pride in their souls.
They will become people, people, people...

© Irina Samarina-Labyrinth

Unread post by **Vasya-Vasya** » 09 Oct 2023, 02:42

The flapping of the mighty wings of the Awesome Bird can already be heard. Wider your nostrils, comrade, and this feathered happiness will make a nest in them!

Sent after 8 minutes 24 seconds:
When the trees get big
We will admire the dolphins and frolic in the sandbox.
When will the trees get big?
This is all my preparation drawing.

Sent after 1 hour 24 minutes 17 seconds:
We Spiliologists are not looking for easy ways.
We are looking where it is brighter.
A woman in a cave is a universe, and in an apartment there is a galaxy! Will We be astronauts or will we get lost in the depths of consciousness?!

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 10 Oct 2023, 05:46

https://i.postimg.cc/j25Ch67n/photo-2023-10-10-15-42-18.jpg

Какие слова у дождя? – Никаких.
Он тихо на старую землю ложится,
И вот на земле уж ничто не пылится,
Ничто не болит, и не давят долги.

Какие слова у меня? – Тишина.
Немая луна всю пустыню заполнит
И так стережёт эту белую полночь,
Что только тобой эта полночь полна.

Какие слова у тебя? – Красота.
Ты белое платье по миру проносишь
И запахи ливней в ладонях приносишь,
И льёт на пустыни мои доброта.

Какие слова у дорог? – Торжество.
Мы мчимся по ливням, любовь постигая.
И редкие звёзды сквозь тучи мигают,
И капли дрожат на стекле ветровом.

Unread post by **Venus** » 10 Oct 2023, 06:01

A simple female soul

They knocked gently on my soul
With the question: “Excuse me, can I come to you?”

After thinking, I said: “Can I... can I,
Come in, there is a place both here and there...”

Again the question: “What are these boxes with,
They are big, and they don’t look so hot...”

- Unfulfilled plans they are about summer,
Dreams, hopes...those that cannot be saved...

- Why did you come into the soul?
Usually everyone is looking for the body approach...

- I won’t disturb your peace with an insult...
And a body without a soul... it doesn’t count...

- Well, since you have already come, then stay
Not until the morning, but just forever...
I fell in love with you, don’t doubt it...
And instead of “No” the soul said “Yes”...

- But if you really fell in love,
Why, answer, if it’s not a secret?

- The question in love is “ For what?" I’m not at all strong,
After all, they love DESPITE the answer? count...

- They use people, but love things
Now... But it was the other way around...

- And if I want to leave inaudibly,
I need to know that I saved you from tears...

- So if one day I become superfluous,
That means you are my life lesson...

They burst into my soul, breaking down the door,
Rustling with autumn confessions...
I forgive everyone for everything while I’m alive
I have a simple feminine soul...

(c) Irina Samarina-Labyrinth

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 11 Oct 2023, 03:58

https://i.postimg.cc/v8chP2xP/photo-2023-10-10-16-54-41.jpg

Можно я приду к тебе во сне?
По другому, видимо, нельзя
Можно я напомню о себе?
Каплями осеннего дождя
Осторожно, робко, не дыша
Нежно прикоснусь к твоей щеке
Пусть плывут минуты не спеша
По ночной, таинственной реке

Сон, как дождь — придёт, не на беду
И уйдёт — уныло, морося…
Можно я во сне к тебе приду?
Можно я во сне к тебе приду?
По другому, мне уже нельзя

Хочешь? Я приду к тебе во сне?
И сотру все цифры на часах
Хочешь? Я напомню о себе
Зажигая звёзды в небесах
Пусть застынет время, как стекло
И сомкнётся вечностью во мгле
Спи Родная, всё, что утекло
Всё равно останется во мне

Сон, как дождь — придёт, не на беду
И уйдёт — уныло, морося…
Можно я во сне к тебе приду?
Можно я во сне к тебе приду?
По другому, мне уже нельзя

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 12 Oct 2023, 23:15

Friday the 13th dear forum users!

https://i.postimg.cc/9FKSVrPv/photo-2023-10-13-09-11-10.jpg
Когда лежит луна ломтем чарджуйской дыни
На краешке окна и духота кругом,
Когда закрыта дверь, и заколдован дом
Воздушной веткой голубых глициний,
И в чашке глиняной холодная вода,
И полотенца снег, и свечка восковая
Горит, как в детстве, мотыльков сзывая,
Грохочет тишина, моих не слыша слов, —
Тогда из черноты рембрандтовских углов
Склубится что-то вдруг и спрячется туда же,
Но я не встрепенусь, не испугаюсь даже.
Здесь одиночество меня поймало в сети.
Хозяйкин черный кот глядит, как глаз столетий,
И в зеркале двойник не хочет мне помочь.
Я буду сладко спать. Спокойной ночи, ночь.

Unread post by **Alice** » 13 Oct 2023, 11:37

Unread post by **Venus** » 14 Oct 2023, 23:33

The great-grandmother’s clock crows dully.
In castles in the air it is warm and dry.
And the city is full of continuous rains,
Nobody’s cats, strangers.
The city was cloudy, angry and sir,
And everything was wrong in the city...
And I dreamed of fixing the world,
But, thank God, I didn’t know how...

(c) Ekaterina Gorbovskaya

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 16 Oct 2023, 02:05

https://i.postimg.cc/DyVXMtqk/photo-2023-04-12-14-31-11.jpg

Кто-то приходит в инет, чтоб развлечься,
Кто-то стихи почитать…
А кто-то приходит с надеждой на счастье,
Любовь свою повстречать!
Ты просто сидишь и общаешься в чате,
Спеша набираешь слова…
И вдруг понимаешь… О! Боже! Вот эта…
Вот эта — родная душа!
В инете встречаются души и мысли
В реале — сначала тела!
И кто мне подскажет, так что же главнее?
Какая нужней красота?
Ну что-виртуал, кто-то скажет — игрушка.
Для многих — пустая игра!
Возможно, не спорю, но люди живые,
И чувства живые — всегда!
Ведь любишь в реале и в жизни страдаешь,
И плачет живая душа!
Ах! Если бы больно бы было экрану…
Все проще бы было тогда!
Но любишь — картинку! Не видишь живого!
А все реалисты сидят!
И все это верно, но только, поверьте,
Все счастья на свете хотят!
Так что, реалисты? Чему здесь не верить?
Так где в виртуале игра?
Не верить словам? Да, пожалуй согласна!
Всем верить, конечно, нельзя!
Но только в Инете влюбляются души…
И к черту любые слова!
А вы, реалисты? Не верите в это?
Зачем вы идете сюда?
Все это и смешно и грустно,
Но расставаться с этим — жаль!
На сердце сразу стало пусто,
И на душе одна печаль!
Нам так хотелось в это верить,
Что мы с тобой сошли с ума!
Любви хотели… И любили,
Забыв, что все это — игра!
Мы растворились в этой сказке,
Не думая о том, что ждет.
Мы получали в виртуале,
Что жизнь в реале не дает!
Хотелось бы поставить точку…
Мы заигрались! Это так!
Но, почему-то, слезы льются…
И нет улыбки на устах!

Unread post by **Pierro** » 16 Oct 2023, 21:44

Feed me snow pellets,
throw them into my numb mouth.
I’m fed up with you,
the hateful insult.
I’m fed up with the cold truth:
nFebruary, unreliable man
is sarcastic. And wrinkles lie at the mouth
in two furrows.
And wind and snow emery -
into the eyes. It cuts and pinches.
But you don’t have to wait
with the hope of warmth and protection.
Only after tearing my heart in two,
will I understand what it’s worth,
when they throw evil words at you
it’s like acid in your face.
Choke, swallowing the cereal
and don’t even think about warming up.
Let the tears roll. And let
the numb heart be silent.

(c) O. Starushko

Unread post by **Venus** » 17 Oct 2023, 01:25

The bitter smell of wormwood
And sand from the desert
On the camel’s hump -
For you.

The money of an old miser,
Two crossed swords
On the family coat of arms -
For you.

Unhealed wounds,
All distant countries
In a spyglass -
To you.

The key to the locked door
And also my heart
The colors of the scarlet dawn -
Take it!..

(c) Vera Polozkova

17 Oct 2023, 01:47

Sergei Yesenin
Sing, sing
Sing, sing. On the damned guitar
Your fingers are dancing in a semicircle.
I wish I could choke in this frenzy,
My last, only friend.
Don’t look at her wrists
nAnd silk flowing from her shoulders.
I was looking for happiness in this woman,
And I accidentally found death.
I didn’t know that love was an infection,
I didn’t knew that love is a plague.
I came up and with a narrowed eye
Drew the bully crazy.
Sing, my friend. Bring back to me again
Our former violent early morning.
Let her kiss another,
Young, beautiful trash.
Oh, wait. I don’t scold her.
Oh, wait. I don’t curse her.
Let me play to myself
To this bass string.
The pink dome of my days flows.
In the heart of dreams are golden sums. I groped a lot of girls,
I pressed a lot of women in the corner.
Yes! there is a bitter truth of the earth,
I spied with a childish eye:
The males are licking in line
The flowing bitch with juice.
So why should I be jealous of her.
nSo why should I be sick like that.
Our life is a sheet and a bed.
Our life is a kiss and a pool.
Sing, sing! In a fatal scope
These hands are a fatal disaster.
Just you know, fuck them...
I will never die, my friend.
1922
Sent after 39 minutes 13 seconds:
Tobacco smoke has gone out .
The room is
the chapter in Kruchenykhov’s hell.
Remember—
behind this window
for the first time
I stroked your hands in a frenzy .
Today you sit here,
heart in iron.
One more day -
you will be kicked out,
maybe scolded.
B I won’t fit into the sleeve for a long time in the muddy hallway.
I’ll run out,
I’ll throw the body into the street.
Wild,
I’ll go crazy, despaired.
Don’t do this,
darling,
good one,
let’s say goodbye now.
It doesn’t matter
nmy love is a heavy weight after all -
hangs on you,
wherever you run.
Let the bitterness of offended complaints roar out in your last cry.
If a bull is killed by labor -
he will leave,
he will lie down in the cold waters.
Besides your love,
I
there is no sea ,
and you can’t beg rest from your love even by crying.
A tired elephant wants peace -
the royal one will lie down in the scorched sand.
Besides your love,
I
there is no sun,
and I don’t even know where are you and with whom.
If I had tormented the poet like that,
he
would have traded his beloved for money and fame,
and me
not a single one the ringing is not joyful,
except for the ringing of your beloved name.
And I won’t throw myself into the air,
and I won’t drink poison,
and I won’t be able to pull the trigger above my temple.
Above me,
except for your gaze,
the blade of a single knife has no power.
Tomorrow you will forget
that I crowned you,
nthat the blossoming soul has been scorched by love,
and the tossed-up carnival of vanity days
will tatter the pages of my books...
Will the dry leaves of my words
make me stop,
greedily breathing?
Let me at least
paint the last tenderness
your departing step.
1916

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 17 Oct 2023, 23:33

https://i.postimg.cc/CxLT1HkF/photo-2023-10-18-09-27-44.jpg

«Дверь хижины в горах
Осенена ветвями сосен,
Не знающих весны.
Прерывистою цепью капель
Сочится талый снег»

© Сикиси-найсинно

Unread post by **Venus** » 18 Oct 2023, 00:28

Oh, life without tomorrow!
I catch betrayal in every word,
And waning love
A star rises for me.

To fly away so imperceptibly ,
Almost unrecognizable when we meet,
But it’s night again. And again shoulders
In wet languor to kiss.

I was not sweet to you,
You were hateful to me. And the torture lasted
And like a criminal she languished
Love filled with evil.

It’s like a brother. You are silent, angry.
But if we meet eyes -
I swear to you by heaven,
Granite will melt in the fire.

(c) Anna Akhmatova

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 18 Oct 2023, 01:11

Dawn comes to those who saw darkness
In all its murderous grandeur...
Who cried at human indifference,
But was not indifferent to anyone!
n
Dawn comes to those who were on the way,
Knowing neither fatigue nor laziness.
Who, exhausted, fell to their knees,
But rose, continued to walk...

And, clenching his will in his fists,
Suddenly he found a chamomile field,
And, choking from the aching pain,
nI hid my palms in the petals!

To those who, having buried their dreams,
And, remembering them, rushed on.
Who could amidst betrayal and falsehood ,
Don’t lose your spiritual purity!

Inadvertently in the blue sky,
Suddenly the sunny doors will open.
Dawn comes to those who believed in light.
Absurd, to the last. But I believed!..
https://i.postimg.cc/vHf8PQ3x/4ebfd2a65994433a05e04ef10d532689.jpg

Отправлено спустя 23 часа 9 минут 25 секунд:
Учиcь иcкуccтву мaленьких шaгoв,
Чтoб глaвнoе не рacплеcкaлocь в cпешке.
Чтoб не зaбыть, где ферзь cтoит, где пешки.
Где cтaн друзеи‌, где лoгoвo врaгoв.
Пoверхнocтнo и беглo не прoи‌ти
Вcю дaльнюю диcтaнцию дo cути.
Учиcь не cуетитьcя нa мaршруте
И кaждыи‌ день cудьбу блaгoдaри.

Я видел, кaк летят без тoрмoзoв,
Cгoрaют вмиг, рaзлaмывaяcь c треcкoм.

Учиcь иcкуccтву мaленьких шaгoв.
Нa caмых cлoжных жизненных oтрезкaх.

https://i.postimg.cc/qRJGk1Y0/photo-2023-10-19-10-20-12.jpg

Unread post by **Venus** » 19 Oct 2023, 02:21

Night, street, lantern, pharmacy,
Meanless and dim light.
Live at least another quarter of a century -
Everything will be like this. There is no outcome.

If you die, you will start over again
And everything will repeat as before:
Night, icy ripples of the canal,
Pharmacy, street , lantern.

(c) Alexander Blok

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 19 Oct 2023, 02:37

Strecoza,
This is Peter )

Sent after 20 hours 52 minutes 49 seconds:
https://i.postimg.cc/4xYMTc42/photo-2023-10-20-09-28-58.jpg

Нежнее нежного
Лицо твое,
Белее белого
Твоя рука,
От мира целого
Ты далека,
И все твое —
От неизбежного.

От неизбежного
Твоя печаль,
И пальцы рук
Неостывающих,
И тихий звук
Неунывающих
Речей,
И даль
Твоих очей.

Осип Мандельштам

Отправлено спустя 1 час 39 минут 35 секунд:
https://i.postimg.cc/cJZmQfR6/photo-2023-10-11-15-02-18.jpg
Любовь меня великому учила.
Прошла со мной почти весь белый свет.
Шла по воде — и ног не замочила.
Шла по огню — не почернела, нет.

Она была то радостью, то болью.
То маленькой бывала, то большой.
То раны мне солила ржавой солью,
То всё прощала с легкою рукой.

Любовь… Любовь… А что это такое —
Любовь?.. Ты только правду мне ответь:
Чего в ней больше — слёз или покоя,
И что с ней делать — плакать или петь?

Unread post by **Alexssss** » 20 Oct 2023, 21:03

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2etARu5I8 ... C-0LHRg9GB
Я чинила ночью глобус, до слез (

Unread post by **Alice** » 20 Oct 2023, 21:10

Alexssss, my soul is crying....

Unread post by **Alexssss** » 20 Oct 2023, 21:11

SeRg !$!, Leningrad, super, was it in the summer, we walked 20 km a day, boats, Nevsky, the Gulf of Finland, Peterhof, a lot of emotions from St. Petersburg, despite the fact that this is my third time in the city) Next year we are planning Karelia and Kronstadt

Unread post by **sensitive** » 22 Oct 2023, 15:43

https://i.postimg.cc/PJy8ShWT/de2da58ad975e98a771aaed443526b2d.jpg

Unread post by **Alexssss** » 22 Oct 2023, 20:50

Отправлено спустя 1 минуту 41 секунду:

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 23 Oct 2023, 00:45

Don’t forbid yourself to dream –
Even if not in color, even in black and white;
May you be open to the winds and arrows –
Remove the lock, break the seal!

Don’t forbid yourself to create,
Let it sometimes come out crooked -
Your ridiculous motives
No one can repeat it.

nDon’t be afraid to live, don’t be afraid to sing,
Don’t say that you can’t:
You won’t regret anything -
May there be nothing to regret!

https://i.postimg.cc/FKThmf9H/photo-2023-10-23-10-44-19.jpg

Unread post by **sodomy** » 23 Oct 2023, 00:58

The cultural level is high
Your soul is in the sublunary world.
Your pussy lets out juice
When I read Shakespeare to her.
You are taken into a deep trance
Instant the suffocation of Desdemona.
And a long orgasm
The shaking of Danish castle vaults.
And a bud opens,
When I play the violin for her.
From under the linen he comes out
And sends me smiles.
(C) Sergey Zkhus

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 23 Oct 2023, 01:10

https://i.postimg.cc/7ZRQ87cV/photo-2023-10-23-11-10-13.jpg

Осыпаются алые клёны,
полыхают вдали небеса,
солнцем розовым залиты склоны —
это я открываю глаза.
Где и с кем, и когда это было,
только это не я сочинил:
ты меня никогда не любила,
это я тебя очень любил.
Парк осенний стоит одиноко,
и к разлуке и к смерти готов.
Это что-то задолго до Блока,
это мог сочинить Огарёв.
Это в той допотопной манере,
когда люди сгорали дотла.
Что написано, по крайней мере
в первых строчках, припомни без зла.
Не гляди на меня виновато,
я сейчас докурю и усну —
полусгнившую изгородь ада
по-мальчишески перемахну.

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 24 Oct 2023, 08:08

https://i.postimg.cc/XqYfhswL/photo-2023-10-24-18-08-02.jpg
Осенняя женщина хрупко-прекрасна,
Изящно-решительна, нежно-опасна.
Ей нравится дождь и опаловый вечер,
И шлейф листопада, укутавший плечи.
Она упоительно пахнет туманом,
Придымленным ветром и яблоком пьяным,
И снежные бури на крыльях уносят
Медовую, горькую Женщину-Осень...

Unread post by **Merit** » 24 Oct 2023, 08:19

When I first came out here, there was a poetess who was persecuted from everywhere. I don’t remember the name but there were two or three of them. Excellent poems and there were interpretations with poems of paintings and videos.
It seems that this is them. They are talented.
Lada. I remembered.
And they dedicated it to me then...
I got used to flowers, congratulations, gifts. Dad can afford it. But their poems? How they wanted me, how they would fuck me was unexpected for me and like a holiday.
Moreover, in poetry.

Unread post by **Alexssss** » 24 Oct 2023, 08:27

If your everyday life is not sugar
And the taste of your life is not honey,
You need to believe in good signs,
You need to believe - and everything will pass!

If you are hitting a blank wall,
Resting your soul against a dead end,
Remember: your time is priceless,
There is no need to warm the glacier!

Smile in any weather,
Keeping a good motive,
If people leave again,
It means that they are on the wrong path!

Never grumble gloomily,
Be the warmth that will melt the snow.
If you are retreating, think:
“In order to take a running start!”

© Lyubov Kozyr

Unread post by **Merit** » 24 Oct 2023, 08:31

Are these yours? Ah, Lyubov Kozyr? I haven’t read it.
Is Lada here? Where can I read it?

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 25 Oct 2023, 03:39

https://i.postimg.cc/yNv7nFCh/photo-2023-10-25-13-14-15.jpg

Даже если ты рухнешь вниз
И заплачешь дождём навзрыд,
Будешь камнем лежать без сил
Весь измученный от обид,
Я укрою тебя собой,
Обниму и прижму к себе,
Будем вместе искать покой
В твоем сердце и на душе.

Злые пусть языки твердят,
Что мужчина сплошная сталь,
Только сила совсем в другом
Снова встать, когда ты упал.

Unread post by **Aion2012Dead** » 25 Oct 2023, 03:48

My path is laid out - from start to finish.
And I live on it, like life.
I am glad and happy that I am alive!
And grateful to everyone I loved.

Unread post by **Merit** » 25 Oct 2023, 09:56

Haiku? It seems. Well done. Beautiful.

Unread post by **Pierro** » 25 Oct 2023, 10:09

They meet in order to be separated...
Fall in love in order to fall out of love...
I want to laugh,
And burst into tears - and not live!

They swear so that break oaths...
They dream to curse dreams...
Oh, sorrow for those who understand
All pleasures are in vain!..

In the village I want the capital...
In the capital I want wilderness...
And human faces everywhere
Without the human soul...

How often beauty is ugly
And there is beauty in ugliness...
How often baseness is noble
And innocent lips are evil.

So how can one not laugh,
Not burst into tears , how to live,
When is it possible to part,
When is it possible to stop loving?!

(c) I. Severyanin

Unread post by **Merit** » 25 Oct 2023, 11:04

I’m not talented, but I love good poetry. I know many of them by heart. Many touch, many...
It doesn’t matter. There is no harmony yet, but the followers are very talented.
I am, but she promised to dedicate something to me. Then I left the forum. But the dream remained. Such a woman cannot deceive. She promised she would send it.

Unread post by **career** » 25 Oct 2023, 11:09

Merit: ↑25 Oct 2023, 11:04 I’m not talented, but I love good poetry. I know many of them by heart. Many touch, many...
It doesn’t matter. There is no harmony yet, but the followers are very talented.
I am, but she promised to dedicate something to me. Then I left the forum. But the dream remained. Such a woman cannot deceive. She promised she’d send it.

here you are, no, but I’m confused by the style of writing text like "Veronica", don’t fall for it

Unread post by **Barsuk70** » 26 Oct 2023, 12:06

Do you remember what we saw in the summer?
My angel, do you remember
That dead horse under the bright white light
Among the reddish grass?
Half-decayed, she, with her legs spread,
Like a market girl,
Shamelessly, belly up, lay by the road,
Smelling fetid pus.
And the sun scorched this rottenness from the sky,
To burn the remains to the ground,
So that great Nature
accepts what was merged into one separated.
And pieces of the skeleton were already grinning into the sky,
Large flowers.
The stench in the meadow, in the fragrant heat of summer,
You almost felt sick.
Hurrying to the feast, a buzzing cloud of flies
Hovered over the vile pile, And the worms crawled and swarmed in the belly,
Like thick black mucus.
All this moved, heaved and glittered,
As if suddenly animated,
nThe monstrous body grew and multiplied,
It was full of vague breath.
/Charles Baudelaire/

Sent after 9 minutes 15 seconds:
I saw your eyes differently,
When there was a calm in them, when there was a thunderstorm.
I saw them laughing sometimes
Angry, looking tired.
They took away the clarity and peace
My previously calm eyes.
And I, an eccentric, sing them for the hundredth time. /Barsuk70/

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 26 Oct 2023, 23:34

https://i.postimg.cc/nhQzGZLx/photo-2023-10-27-09-34-03.jpg

О, жизнь! Ты миг, но миг прекрасный,
Миг невозвратный, дорогой,
Равно счастливый и несчастный
Расстаться не хотят с тобой.

Ты миг, но данный нам от Бога
Не для того, чтобы роптать
На свой удел, свою дорогу,
И дар бесценный проклинать.

Но чтобы жизнью наслаждаться,
Но чтобы ею дорожить,
Перед судьбой не преклоняться,
Молиться, веровать, любить.

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 31 Oct 2023, 05:28

https://i.postimg.cc/YSHHt0wr/photo-2023-01-25-09-29-14.jpg

Я не с тобой, но у тебя внутри,
Мечтами сокращаю расстоянье,
Я где-то в глубине твоей души,
Как светлое воспоминанье…

Я не с тобой, но я в твоих словах,
Слетаю с губ внезапным вдохновеньем,
В твоём стремлении, желанье доказать
Моё случайное не очень наставленье.

Я прихожу в твои ночные сны,
С тобою там гуляем до рассвета,
Там хорошо, там только я и ты,
Но тают сны от солнечного света.

Нам бы хоть миг, и только на двоих,
Да вот не властны чувства над судьбою,
Ты исчезаешь в будних днях моих,
Но ты внутри, а значит, ты со мною…

Отправлено спустя 18 часов 2 минуты 48 секунд:
https://i.postimg.cc/W4wj0xkj/photo-2023-11-01-09-26-17.jpg

Душа, ну разве ты не чудо?
Ты не стареешь никогда,
Пришла неведомо откуда,
Уйдёшь неведомо куда.

Тебе ни друг я, ни хозяин,
И непонятно почему
Твоими плачу я слезами,
И рад бессмертью твоему?..

Unread post by **Vik.ruba80** » 01 Nov 2023, 11:31

You live like a little girl:
I am childishly happy about every fairy tale.
You reach on tiptoe
What you have to bend over for... as the classic said.

Unread post by **Lada R** » 01 Nov 2023, 11:47

Strecoza: ↑19 Oct 2023, 02:21 Night, street, lantern, pharmacy,
Meaningless and dim light.
Live at least another quarter of a century -
Everything will be like this. There is no outcome.

If you die, you will start over again
And everything will repeat as before:
Night, icy ripples of the canal,
Pharmacy, street , lantern.

(c) Alexander Blok

--------- ----------------
"March has already passed, spring is getting hotter
I look at the Obvodny Canal
Blok came to mind. .. But brighter -
I wanted to write!
------
Warm. Streams from the snow.
Well and open hatch.
The sound of sledgehammers and the cry of an Uzbek -
Shaitan! Hand! for centuries -
Warmth. Streams are flowing
Falled hatch. Hand.."(c)

found on the Internet

Unread post by **Beluga** » 01 Nov 2023, 12:30

I hear a voice from a beautiful distance,
The morning voice in the silver dew,
He sings about the approach of Ragnarok,
There will be a battle, and everyone will die in it...

O battle of Ragnarok, throw Midgard into the abyss of Doom,
be cruel to the Jotuns, be cruel to them,
From the palace of Asgard to the battle of Ragnarok,
I begin my journey to the battle of Ragnarok.

I hear the voice of Gjallahorn from afar -
He trumpets that the whole earth will perish in flames!
I hear a howl and the chain on the paws of a wolf breaks,
The storm is thunder, a snake crawled out of the sea

Oh the battle of Ragnarok, the turn of all the deadlines has come,
And the shield is of no use, forget about mercy,
From the wisdom of the source Odin rushes into battle with the wolf,
Prophesying the flame of doom, the Völva revealed the essence.

I swear, to wash the sword with blood, to be braver
When in the flames I will perish forever
As the sun has eaten, and the sword of Surt blazes
Water evaporates under the bifrost

Heimdall grappled with Loki, And the one-eyed one was devoured,
The container of vice - Naglfar sailed!
We hear the murmur of the dead, the clatter of bones on the gangplanks ,
Fenrir was killed, Jormungandr died, and Tyr and Garm fell.

The horns of the gods are not heard, poison flows along the roads.
Ruby if burn and give, to the Einherjar, strength,
Oh the battle of Ragnarok, the ringing of steel, thunder and roar,
And Yggdrasil burns in the flame streams.

https://i.postimg.cc/6qh4BpG1/1681309035-kartinki-pibig-info-p-kartinki-ragnarek-arti-krasivo-75.jpg

Unread post by **Alexssss** » 01 Nov 2023, 21:20

"At night I was fixing the globe": how the poems of a 30-year-old Russian woman became an Internet hit⁠⁠
30-year-old psychologist, mother of two children Svetlana Bondar, living in the village of Krasnogvardeyskoye, Stavropol Territory, became an Internet star thanks to her poem entitled “At night I repaired the globe.”

The poems became a hit on social networks. True, sometimes users forget to indicate the name of the author.

As Svetlana herself told Komsomolskaya Pravda, she wrote these poems a couple of days after the tragedy of the Russian plane in the Egyptian sky.

* * *
At night I was repairing the globe,
Like a mechanic, like a surgeon.
I caught an airbus
And returned it to St. Petersburg.
Nothing is written in the press
About the wave of the masses:
About the tragedies in Odessa,
About Donetsk and about Donbass.
n
They go fishing together
Leaders of two large countries.
The Twin Towers are in place.
We don’t know about Beslan.

No Japanese tsunami.
The earth no longer shakes.
No more infertility. And with us
The adopted daughter lives.

In the Barents Sea proudly
Kursk sails to her native land.
I am fifty-three years old. He gives a concert in the Kremlin.

Karmadon Gorge
Filmed by Sergei Bodrov.
Monks treat cancer in cells.
Quickly and without doctors.

We don’t take grandfathers to the square.
With gray hair at the temples.
I was repairing the globe at night.
I woke up all in tears.
___________________________

This is brilliant!

Sent after 1 hour 33 minutes 57 seconds:
Merit, Brothel Lada, look there

Unread post by **SeRg !$!** » 01 Nov 2023, 23:46

https://i.postimg.cc/SQXyxtFN/photo-2023-11-01-22-49-45.jpg
Нам простой любви не хватает:
Мало ценим мы всё простое.
Надо больше любить трамваи,
Те, в которых трясёмся стоя.

Надо больше ценить бульвары,
Где ограды, как дым, сквозные,
Надо крепче любить базары,
Где товары все - расписные!

Надо легче прощать обиды.
Доброты от людей не пряча,
Улыбаясь с приветным видом -
И своим, и чужим удачам...

Нет, не нужно искать покоя:
Жажде подвига - всюду честь!
Но любите жизнь и такою,
Вот такою, какая есть.

Poems that you liked. - Page 3

Poems that you liked.

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