And the essence of life is its simplicity. But the essence of life is simple: her mouth, his mouth...

Success, happiness? What is this? Ferramones, which are so attractive and fill our lives with special shades, feelings, aromas... The same Blue bird, which everyone is chasing, but she so rarely visits our windowsill. Who does His Majesty favor with success? Is happiness for the brave, proactive, smart or, on the contrary, for the lucky, wise, or, excuse me, fools? And what is its component? Pressure in work, talent, successful marriage, lucky children? Or he dishonestly made up his capital and fled to England to crack nuts in an overseas hotel.

Happiness is not a destination station,
but a way to travel.
M.Runbeck
As my friend said, what is success without happiness, and what is happiness without success? Philosophers have many definitions for this: “Happiness is God, the path and travelers.” God is always with you: knock and it will be opened, ask and it will be given. You will overcome the path together with the travelers. Overcame. On the top! Happy and “mute and only a little jealous of those others whose peak is still ahead.” And again you are looking for the top and those who will go to it with you. And here famous storyteller Hans Christian Andersen spoke about happiness simply and tastefully: “To be useful to the world is the only way become happy." And also, happiness is the absence of unhappiness.
Leonardo da Vinci’s opinion on this matter echoes him: “Happiness comes to those who work hard.” But Alfred Adler noted that “human happiness, first of all, perhaps, depends on solving the problem of love and marriage.”
“Women’s happiness - if only a sweetheart were nearby.” However, like men's. Good wife, girlfriend, husband (in Ukrainian), that is, in one harness, for life - count 90% life success men. Therefore, nothing in life is celebrated so brightly and with such pomp among the people as a wedding. " Wedding ring- not a simple decoration, two hearts - one solution..." The main thing is that in joy, sorrow and illness - together "to bear each other's burdens", in joy it is not difficult, anyone can. However, even at a party, some people can quarrel so much that all the glasses and plates are shattered. And fortunately - the end...
Each person has his own feeling and definition of happiness and success. In addition, at every age, people have different ideas about them. In youth, feelings, love, friends come first. IN mature age- family, career, well-being, money. But God forbid from an exaggerated desire for the latter. Acquisitiveness dries up the soul and turns it into a barren desert. Happiness lies in change, not in acquisition, said the sage.
But in old age, in the third age, it is common for a person to reflect on his life: “how few paths have been taken, how many mistakes have been made!” May God grant that there be few regrets about what was done and what was not done. So that peace, tranquility and love reign in the soul. Love for everything that exists - for nature, which so generously gives us our daily bread, fruits, which is so beautiful, live forever - you can’t stop looking at it. To our smaller brothers - the birds, who are so cold and hungry in winter, to the cats and dogs that their heartless owners have kicked out of their homes, but they cannot stretch out their paws or ask for alms. To the people who live next to us, in the same entrance. However, it is easy to love the whole world, but it is harder to love the homeless person who lives in the garbage disposal of your house.
It would seem that Kozma Prutkov said so simply: “if you want to be happy, be happy,” if you want to achieve success, go for it! But no, there is so much thirst for wealth, glory, seductions, temptations, envy along this path...

I would like to dwell on one more component of happiness - health. When we have it, we don’t notice it, we are cheerful and cheerful, and let’s be honest, sometimes we don’t appreciate it. As they say, we scatter in handfuls and collect bit by bit.

But when we get sick, we begin to understand that health, as they say, cannot be bought with money, it must be protected and strengthened every day. But do not rely on medicine, but, as Socrates advised, treat the soul, look at life more simply and more cheerfully. Being optimistic is good for your health. They live longer and get sick less often. Dejection is a sin. We must live now and here, without getting stuck in the past. Why be upset about what happened? We are not able to change the past. So why focus on it? Let's forgive ourselves and others. Let's take into account the mistakes and won't repeat them in the future.

And life - it has its own laws. They are very well spelled out in the ten commandments of God: do not steal, do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not covet someone else’s wife or someone else’s property, honor your parents, for they are given special, sacred knowledge about their children. Parents have already made their mistakes and want to use their example to warn their children.
Do them, make them yours life rule and be happy.

Yours old occupation 85-year-old “Liskinsky Picasso” Ivan Finochkin pejoratively calls artistic creativity “pampering.” But neither America nor Argentina, where the elegant wooden sculptures and paintings of the master craftsman ended up, consider them “pampering”.

In his attitude to nature and art, the former worker of the Liski railway depot I. Finochkin is somewhat similar to Turgenev’s Bazarov, who argued that “nature is not a temple, but

a workshop, and the person in it is a worker.” And he has been working in tandem with nature in this very workshop for more than 40 years.
... Every morning of Ivan Ivanovich, at any time of the year and in any weather, begins with a “search for harmony” and combining business with pleasure. Despite his age, he “runs into nature,” not only to strengthen the body and spirit, but also to look out along the way natural preparations for their future artistic masterpieces. In a plastic can of automobile oil, he suddenly sees a roguish human face, which at home in the artist’s hands in a matter of minutes will be edged with the curls of a beard and acquire clever little cork eyes, winking merrily at the world. Hundreds of the same multi-colored caps from plastic bottles line the porch of his house and an intricate mosaic path. These morning runs fill the craftsman's workshop natural materials the most unusual properties.

If the artist Ivan Finochkin had a commercial streak, he probably could have become a millionaire long ago. How he could become a titled artist. Back in the 50s, during the years of service in the Baltic, one of the famous Russian academic artists, seeing in Finochkin’s drawings the handwriting of the future Dali with a unique Russian accent, literally dragged the gifted sailor by the hands to the Art Institute. “Institutes teach technique, but the “spark of God” will never be replaced,” and the artist is still convinced, who, due to life circumstances, never passed through the classroom of artistic apprenticeship.
Nature became his “audience,” generously giving the artist’s attentive eye subjects, images, colors, and lines... “People, let’s create - it’s so simple,” Finochkin cries out. You look at his, at first glance, uncomplicated canvases - it seems really simple. But art connoisseurs familiar with the works of the Liskin artist call them examples of highly artistic primitivism, bordering on modernism. The artist himself simply calls them “paintings” and paints them, inspired, in one breath, never returning to finishing drawings.

I. Finochkin also has a whole gallery sculptural compositions made of wood, which visually and figuratively convinces of the truth of the proverb - “gray hair in the beard, a demon in the rib.” It is difficult to say what kind of demons are tickling the ribs of the artist I. Finochkin, but looking at these graceful erotic figures from the branches of maple, ash, linden, cherry, and willow, you involuntarily admire the irrepressible imagination of nature, which placed these plastic illustrations of the Kama Sutra on the artist’s table.
Once a sea captain from St. Petersburg visited Finochkin. I came to buy paintings, but took away a whole bag of those wooden sculptures. What ports did the ship of that enterprising captain call at, only those figures from Liskin’s cherries and vines scattered around the world, delighting with their perfection of unashamed erotic originality to the eyes of both the American and the Dane. And after that, they say, amazed foreigners came to Finochkin, in Donetsk, more than once to take away wholesale souvenirs from the original Russian hinterland, jointly created by gifted nature and a talented craftsman.
Liski 2014.

Poems about love

Robert Rozhdestvensky
* * *
It all starts with love...
They say:
"At first
was
word..."
And I declare again:
It all begins
with love!..

It all starts with love:
and insight,
and work,
flower eyes,
child's eyes -
everything starts with love.

It all starts with love
With love!
I know that for sure.
All,
even hatred -
dear
and eternal
sister of love.

It all starts with love:
dream and fear,
wine and gunpowder.
Tragedy,
yearning
and feat -
it all starts with love...

Spring will whisper to you:
"Live..."
And the whisper will make you sway.
And you will straighten up.
And you will begin.
It all starts with love!

Robert Rozhdestvensky
* * *
- Give you love?
- Give it back!
- She's in the mud...
- Give it back in the mud!..
- I want to tell fortunes...
- Guess.
- I also want to ask...
- Ask!..
- Let's say I knock...
- I'll let you in!
- Let's say I call...
- I'll go!
- What if there’s trouble there?
- In trouble!
- What if I cheat?
- I'll forgive you!
- “Sing!” - I’ll order you.
- I'll sing!
- Lock the door for your friend...
- I'll lock it up!
- I’ll tell you: kill!..
- I'll kill you!
- I’ll tell you: die!..
- I'll die!
- What if I choke?
- I’ll save you!
- What if there is pain?
- I can stand it!
- What if suddenly it’s a wall?
- I'll take it down!
- What if it’s a knot?
- I'll chop it up!
- What if it’s a hundred knots?
- And a hundred!..
- Should I give you love?
- Love!..
- This won't happen!
- For what?!
- Because
I don't like slaves.

Vasily Fedorov
* * *
By main point
Easy life:
Her lips...
His lips...

She's simple
By good essence,
Let only breasts
Clings to your chest.

The whole point of it
And wise and simple,
Like a stalk
Spring growth.

What about the blood of soldiers?
What about the soldier’s pain?
And strontium
In the bush of clouds?

It's all mistakes
All overlays
And misconceptions
Centuries.

A the essence of life,
It's simple:
Her lips
His lips...

Vasily Fedorov
* * *
Familiar
Like an old tale,
Women are leaving
From U.S.

They are going away
And they carry away
Cold shine
Cold eyes.

She was gentle
And in love
Been there for so long
I'm drunk
So really?
There's nothing left in her
Not a bit
My wine?

Why love
Why burn?
Why in the eyes
Another
Look?
Alas!
Mind boggling
Two secrets:
Woman
And death!

Vasily Fedorov
* * *
- Do not change! -
You say lovingly.
- Oh, don't worry.
I'm not cheating.
But darling...
How will I know
What in the world is not
More beautiful than you?

Maximilian Voloshin
* * *
Your love craves so much
Sobbing, begging, reproaching...
Love him silently and strictly,
Love him, slowly melting away.

Shine on him with a white flame -
Smokeless, sad, weak-willed.
Love him joyfully with your body,
And love him with your heart painfully.

Let the ghost created by love
The face will not obscure another, -
Love him with flesh and blood -
Simple, living, earthly...

Keeping his sign superstitiously,
Do not be afraid of the enemy in the Gentile...
Love him accurately and truly -
Love him to the core.

Nikolay Aseev
* * *
I can not live without you!
I feel dry even in the rain without you,
I feel cold even in the heat without you.
Without you, Moscow is a wilderness for me.

Every hour without you is like a year;
If only time could be shredded, fractionated!
Even the blue sky is blue for me
It seems like stone without you.

I don't want to know anything -
Poverty of friends, loyalty of enemies,
I don't want to wait for anything.
Except for your precious steps.

Stepan Shchipachev
* * *
Know how to cherish love,
Over the years it will be doubly valuable.
Love is not sighs on a bench
And not moonlit walks.

Everything will be: slush and powder.
After all, we need to live life together.
Love is like a good song
And a song is not easy to put together.

Vyacheslav Ivanov
LOVE
We are two trunks lit by a thunderstorm,
Two flames of the midnight forest;
We are two flying meteors in the night,
Same fate, two-pronged arrow!

We are two horses whose bit is held
One hand, their spur sarcastically;
We are two eyes of the only gaze,
One dream has two trembling wings.

We are a grieving couple of two shadows
Over the marble of the divine tomb,
Where the ancient Beauty rests.

Two-voiced lips of common secrets,
To ourselves we are both the Sphinx of one.
We are two arms of a single cross.

Arseny Tarkovsky
FIRST DATES
Our dates every moment
We celebrated like an epiphany,
Alone in the whole world. You were
Bolder and lighter than a bird's wing,
Up the stairs like dizziness
She ran down the steps and led
Through the wet lilacs into your domain
On the other side of the mirror glass.

When night came, I had mercy
Darovana, altar gates
Opened and glowed in the darkness
And nakedness slowly declined,
And, waking up: “Be blessed!” -
I spoke and knew that I was bold
My blessing: you were sleeping,
And touch the eyelids of the blue universe
The lilac was reaching out to you from the table,
And blue-touched eyelids
They were calm and the hand was warm.

And rivers pulsated in the crystal,
The mountains were smoking, the seas were sparkling,
And you held the sphere in your palm
Crystal, and you slept on the throne,
And - good God! - you were mine.

You have awakened and transformed
Everyday human dictionary,
And the speech is up to the throat with full-voiced force
Filled up, and the word “you” revealed
Mine new meaning and meant: king.

Everything in the world has changed, even
Simple things - a basin, a jug - when
She stood between us, as if on guard,
Layered and hard water.

We were taken to an unknown place.
They parted before us like mirages,
Cities built by a miracle,
The mint itself lay at our feet,
And the birds were with us along the way,
And the fish rose up the river,
And the sky unfolded before my eyes...

When fate followed us,
Like a madman with a razor in his hand.

Pavel Antokolsky
I LOVE YOU...
I love you in the far carriage
In a yellow indoor halo of fire.
Like a dance and like a chase,
You fly through me at night.

I love you - black from the light,
Directly hitting the cheekbones and forehead.
Not in Moscow - so once and somewhere
It could have come true anyway.

I love you in a hot bed
In that moment captured by legend,
When the hands are intertwined and decayed
In adoration of silent embraces.

I won't forget you because
There are theaters in the world, rains,
Memory, music, distant mail...
And for everything. What else. Ahead.

Konstantin Simonov
* * *
I'm very sad
I'd be glad to find it
Another one like this
Why go back?

But where are my hands?
Take the same ones
So that in separation
Do you miss them?

Where with the same anger
Find my eyes
To be a rare guest
Was there a tear in them?

To laugh the same way
And her mouth sang
So that I may be afraid forever,
That it won't come again.

Where can I get one like this?
To forgive her everything,
To live with her at risk
Not long to live?

So that with every dawn,
Getting up without sleep,
Just as inveterate
Be like her.

So that when you meet her gaze
In sleepless silence,
To love in her there are two side by side
Living souls.

Don't know what's going to happen
From morning until dark,
How will it turn out?
She is the soul.

I'm exhausted with her,
Not knowing how to live
I wanted my fate
On the other hand, make it easier.

But so that the other
Replace it
Exactly like this again
There must be one;

And evil and priceless,
Damned - so
Not in the whole universe
The second one is at hand.

Sergey Gorodetsky
LETTERS FROM THE FRONT
A. A. G[orodetskaya]
1
Forgive me when I'm sinful
When he is criminal before you,
Comfort me when I'm inconsolable
Warm with a young smile.

Sing about happiness when I serve
Your magical beauty.
In heaven, spin with me, rejoicing,
And live in poverty together.

Share fire and blood with me,
With dreams, and grief, and work.
We are bound by one love
And we walk under the same cross.

One star is shining above us,
And our paths are intertwined.
You alone in the whole world
Can I say: “I’m sorry!”
2
About you, about you, about you
I yearn, my joy.
I will surrender to the most terrible fate,
If only you would forget the suffering.

The sky is crying with tears of melancholy,
The sound of rain flies through the gardens.
Petals flow from apple trees like snow.
My grief grows like fire.

Now she has taken over the gardens
And the dawn extinguished by the lakes,
I cut off the rays from the star,
The evening star has a white wing.

Illuminated with scarlet-black fire,
The vault is terrible. But, laughing and beaming,
In the heights, like a saving dream,
You're standing over me, darling.

I come to you out of languor, out of darkness
I extend my crazy hands.
Oh, when will we see each other
And let's merge, like the sounds in singing?

Valery Bryusov
* * *
Odi et amo.
Catullus*
Yes, you can love while hating,
To love with a darkened soul,
With the last curse seeing
The last happiness is in one!

Oh, too cruel lips
Oh, deceitful, alluring gaze,
The whole appearance, both gentle and rough,
A conversation that is as enticing as darkness!

Who is the magic of the shadowy power
Poured into her approach?
Who is the poison of tormenting passion
Did you give her a hug?

I want to curse, but involuntarily
I pray for familiar caresses.
I'm scared, I'm stuffy, I'm in pain...
But I repeat: I love you!

I read in a mocking gaze
Deception, and pretense, and bargaining...
But there is delight in shame
And there is delight in humiliation!

When kisses are in the dark
They're stabbing me with a blade,
I'm like Odysseus about Ithaca,
I dream of days without her.

But I only left Calypso,
I'm yearning for one again.
Woe is me! I drew the lot
Designated black line!
_________________________________
*I hate and love (lat.) - Catullus.

Valery Bryusov
* * *
We met her by chance,
And I timidly dreamed about her,
But a long cherished secret
Hidden in my sadness.

But once in a golden moment
I expressed my secret;
I saw the blush of embarrassment
The answer I heard was “I love you.”

And the eyes flashed tremblingly,
And the lips merged into one.
Here old tale, which
You are always destined to be young.

Valery Bryusov
AGAIN
Why are we connected again
Passion like a fiery tourniquet?
Or not all words have been said
In the black, ghostly past?

Why are we thrown in again
Together into the mystery of the dark?
Or not all hopes are mowed down,
Like flowers in autumn?

We, weak-willed, prostrate,
Once again - on a bed of passionate torment.
Or there are two dead in the grave,
Weave around the curves of your arms?

Or disembodied shadows,
Without forgetting the old passion,
Everyone keeps close embraces,
What is the meaningless impulse?

Mighty God, having power,
Call us to life again, -
Or leave it in a smoldering grave, -
Terrible, terrible is the dream that is becoming clearer,

Our dead love!

Mikhail Kuzmin
JET
Flow away, O heart, flow out!
Bloom, O rose, blossom!
The heart, drunk with a rose, trembles.

I'm burning with love, with love;
Don't call, oh dear, don't call:
Because of the rose, the threatening sword shines.

Protect me, oh my heart, protect me.
Do no harm, the sword is sharp, do no harm:
Descend into the blue moisture.

I will take away trouble with love,
I'll come, oh darling, I'll come
And I will lie down under the sword with you.

Mikhail Kuzmin
* * *
Oh, to be abandoned - what happiness!
What immeasurable light is visible in the past -
So after summer - winter weather:
You still remember the sun, even though it is no longer there.

dried flower, love letters bunch,
Smile of eyes, two happy meetings, -
Let it be dark and sticky on the road now,
But in the spring you wandered through the ants.

Ah, there is another lesson for voluptuousness,
There is another way - deserted and wide.
Oh, to be abandoned is such happiness!
To be unloved is the bitterest fate.

Andrey Bely
WAIT FOR ME
Distant, dear, -
Wait for me...

Distant, dear:
I will...

Your eyes will become me
Two stars.

They'll look at you in the fog -
Two stars.

We are in the distance -
Let's see;

And they gave distances -
Will become: smoke.

Between us, who have flared up, -
The babble of years...

Between us, who have flared up,
The light is shining.

Andrey Bely
LOVE
It was quiet time. The surf was noisy at my feet.
You smiled, saying goodbye:
"We will meet... See you again..."
It was a deception. And you and I knew

That we said goodbye forever that evening.
The skies lit up with crimson flames.
The ship's sails inflated.
The cries of seagulls could be heard over the sea.

I looked into the distance, full of aching sadness.
A ship flashed, sailing away at dawn
among the gentle, emerald foam waves,
like a white swan, wings spread out.

And so he was carried away into the vastness.
Against a pale golden sky
suddenly a foggy cloud rose
and glowed with bright amethyst.

Pavel Vasiliev
* * *
How forgotten and strict you have become
And forgot about me forever.
Don't laugh! And don't touch my hands!
Long glances from under my eyelids did not suit me.
No news! Are you really different?
I know everything, I cursed you all.
Distant, damned, dear,
Love me even without loving me!

Pavel Vasiliev
* * *
I'm afraid that you won't become a stranger to me,
Give me your hand and I will kiss it.
Oh, it’s as if it didn’t fall from the hands of dear ones
Homespun happiness is yours!
I've forgotten you so many times, darling,
I forgot for a minute, for a summer, for a century, -
Another one came to me, gasping for breath,
And combs and snow fell from her hair.
At this time, in a house that is the envy of the neighbors,
On the swan's, on the nuptial feather beds of warmth,
Staring motionless into the green darkness,
You probably waited for me in vain.
And when I strangled her arms like necks
Two big swans, you whispered: “And me?”
Maybe that's why I frowned angrier
Every time I heard yours beat
Lonely blood under a heated shirt,
How silent the resentment was in your eyes.
Nothing, dear! I've been playing around with this one
Not loving her one bit, not loving her at all.

Nikolay Gumilyov
THIS HAS HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE
It happened more than once, it will happen more than once
In our battle, dull and stubborn:
As always, you have now renounced me,
Tomorrow, I know, you will return submissively.

But don’t be surprised, my warring friend,
My enemy, captured dark love,
If the groans of love are groans of torment,
Kisses are stained with blood.

Nikolay Gumilyov
SHE
I know a woman: silence,
Fatigue is bitter from words,
Lives in a mysterious flicker
Her dilated pupils.

Her soul is open greedily
Only the copper music of verse,
Before life, long and joyful,
Arrogant and deaf.

Silent and unhurried,
Her step is so strangely smooth,
You can't call her beautiful
But all my happiness is in her.

When I crave self-will
And brave and proud - I go to her
Learn wise sweet pain
In her languor and delirium.

She is bright in the hours of languor
And holds lightning in his hand,
And her dreams are as clear as shadows
On the heavenly fiery sand.

Nikolay Gumilyov
* * *
There are many people who, having fallen in love,
The wise ones build houses for themselves,
Near their blessed fields
Various children wander after the herd.

And for others - tough love,
Bitter answers and questions,
Mixed with bile, their blood screams,
Their ears are stung by the vicious ringing of a wasp.

And others love the way they sing,
How they sing and marvelously triumph,
In a fabulous shelter hide;
And others love the way they dance.

How do you love, girl, answer,
What languor do you yearn for?
Can you really not burn?
A secret flame familiar to you?

If you could appear to me
By the blinding lightning of the Lord
And from now on I'm on fire
Rising to heaven from the underworld?

Nikolay Zabolotsky
CONFESSION
Enchanted, bewitched,
Once married to the wind in the field,
It's like you're all in chains,
You are my precious woman!

Not happy, not sad,
As if she had descended from the dark sky,
You and my wedding song,
And you are my crazy star...

I'll bend over your knees
I will hug them with fierce strength,
And tears and poems
I will burn you, kind, dear...

Open my midnight face,
Let me enter those heavy eyes,
In these black oriental eyebrows,
These are your half-naked hands.

What doesn't come true will be forgotten,
What is not remembered will not be fulfilled.
So why are you crying, beauty?
Or is it just my imagination?...

Sergey Yesenin
* * *
Foolish heart, don't beat!
We are all deceived by happiness,
The beggar only asks for participation...
Foolish heart, don't beat.

Month yellow spell
They pour over the chestnuts into the clearing.
Lale leaning on his shalwars,
I will hide under the veil.
Foolish heart, don't beat.

We are all like children at times.
We often laugh and cry:
We fell into the world
Joys and failures.
Foolish heart, don't beat.

I have seen many countries.
I looked for happiness everywhere
Only the desired destiny
I won't search anymore.
Foolish heart, don't beat.

Life hasn't completely deceived me.
Let's drink in new strength.
Heart, at least you could fall asleep
Here, on my darling's lap.
Life hasn't completely deceived me.

Maybe he'll mark us too
Rock that flows like an avalanche,
And love will be answered
The song of a nightingale.
Foolish heart, don't beat.

Sergey Yesenin
* * *
Well, kiss me, kiss me,
Even to the point of bleeding, even to pain.
At odds with cold will
Boiling water of heart streams.

Overturned mug
Among the merry ones is not for us.
Understand, my friend,
They only live once on earth!

Look around with a calm gaze,
Look: damp in the darkness
The month is like a yellow raven
It circles and soars above the ground.

Well, kiss me! That's how I want it.
Decay sang a song to me too.
Apparently he sensed my death
The one who soars on high.

Fading Power!
Die like that!
Until the end of my sweetheart's lips
I would like to kiss.

So that all the time in blue slumbers,
Without being ashamed and without hiding,
In the gentle rustle of bird cherry trees
It was heard: “I am yours.”

And so that the light over the full mug
It didn’t go out like a light foam -
Drink and sing, my friend:
They only live once on earth!

Georgy Ivanov
* * *
I’m not asking for love, I’m not singing about spring,
But you alone listen to my song.

Look at this snow and not go crazy.

Ordinary day, ordinary garden
But why are the bells ringing all around?

And the nightingales sing, and snow flowers,
Oh, why, answer, or do you not know?

And how could I, oh, judge for yourself,
Look into your eyes and not go crazy!

I’m not saying - believe me, I’m not saying - listen,
But I know: you are now looking at the same snow

And my love is looking over your shoulder
To this snowy paradise in which you and I.

Dmitry Merezhkovsky
LONELINESS IN LOVE
It's getting dark. In a strange city
We are sitting opposite each other
In the cold twilight of the night,
We both suffer and remain silent.

And both understood long ago
How speech is powerless and dead:
What is a poor heart full of?
Words cannot express it.

No one is to blame for anything:
Who couldn't defeat his pride?
He will be forever alone
He who loves must be a slave.

Striving for bliss and goodness,
Dragging through the languid days,
We are all alone, always alone:
I lived alone, I will die alone.

On the glass of a pale window
The evening half-light has gone out.-
Death alone will teach you to love
Everything to which there is no return.

Dmitry Merezhkovsky
I LOVE OR NOT...
Whether I love you or not, hopelessness is easy for me:
May I never be yours
And yet sometimes such tenderness
In your eyes, it's as if I'm loved.

It is not me you will live, it is not me you will suffer,
And I will pass like a shadow from the clouds;
But you will never forget me,
And my distant call will not die away in you.

We dreamed of an unknown joy,
And we knew in a dream that this was a dream...
But still painful sweetness
There is also the fact that I am not him.

Dmitry Merezhkovsky
SILENCE
How often do I want to express my love,
But I can't say anything
I only rejoice, suffer and remain silent.
It’s as if I’m ashamed - I don’t dare speak.

And close to me is your living soul
Everything is so mysterious, everything is so unusual, -
What is too terrible a divine secret
It seems to me that love is too much to talk about.

Our best feelings are shy and silent,
And everything sacred is surrounded by silence.
While the sparkling waves roar above,
The depths of the sea are silent.

Vladimir Mayakovsky
GAINED
She flashed lightning with her eyes:
"I saw -
another one with you.
You are the lowest
you are the vile one..." -
And she went
and went
and went away, cursing.
I'm a scientist, my dear,
leave your rumblings.
If lightning didn't kill me -
That thunder to me,
By God, not scary.

Osip Mandelstam
* * *
Insomnia. Homer. Tight sails.
I read the list of ships to the middle:
This long brood, this crane train,
That once rose above Hellas.

Like a crane's wedge into foreign borders, -
On the heads of kings there is divine foam, -
Where are you sailing? Whenever Elena
What is Troy alone for you, Achaean men?

Both the sea and Homer - everything moves with love.
Who should I listen to? And now Homer is silent,
And the black sea, swirling, makes noise
And with a heavy roar he approaches the headboard.

Osip Mandelstam
* * *
Tenderer than tender
your face
Whiter than white
Your hand
From the whole world
You're far away
And everything is yours -
From the inevitable.

From the inevitable
Your sadness
And fingers
Uncooling,
And a quiet sound
Cheerful
Speeches,
And the distance
Your eyes.

Yuri Kuznetsov
LOVE
He entered - an old house as if he had come to life.
You were sitting - it wasn’t you who rushed:
Such features appeared
That the face doesn't look like a face.

He hasn't taken it yet, but already
You understood him by his movement.
Then soul touched soul,
Then the star caught on the ground.

Yuri Kuznetsov
MAN AND WOMAN
Not noticeable either with a thin scarf or with your face,
She lived.
(Souls are so simple.)
But the tears flowed like from a strong wind...
The man she met was you!

"Do not Cry!" I submitted to you. You stood:
You stroked it until the end
I pressed myself against the hands that so tenderly washed...
Oh, if only tears would fall from my face!

You have maintained a truly stubborn character,
I erased everything - only the dresses are hanging.
And you want to stroke your dear face -
Hands glide through the air.

Nikolay Rubtsov
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
- We will be free like birds, -
You whisper. And you look with longing,
How lines of birds stretch
Over the sea, over the sea storm!
And for some reason I felt sorry,
That I myself love and are loved...
You are a bird of a different flight, -
Where are we going to fly?

Ilya Selvinsky
LOVERS DON'T DIE
Glory be to the one who invented love
And raised her above passion:
He continued his courage into old age,
He brings out a lily among the ice.

I understand: you say - a mirage?
But there is more tenderness in the world,
We will soon die less:
After all, we are dying from hopelessness.

Ilya Selvinsky
SPELL
Call me, call me
Call me, call me!

If trouble jumps on your shoulders,
Not just any, but exactly
The age-old trouble is the beard,
Call me, call me
Don't be ashamed of yourself or me -
Just exchange grief for joy,
Melt your fear by the fire!

Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Don't you dare whisper to a letter,
Call me by name -
I will surround you with my breath!

Call me, call me
Call me...

Fedor Sologub
* * *
Love is an irresistible force.
She knows no barriers
And even what death has mowed down,
The lover resurrects the gaze.
Eurydice rejoices brightly,
And hell will not overwhelm her,
When the crimson carnation
The proximity of a friend will announce to her,

And he won’t slow down on the road,
And Orpheus will not look back,
When in rapid anxiety
He comes down from the earth after her.

Legends of dark antiquity,
That there is a limit to the power of love,
That she is destined to suffer harm.

Although the crafty Psyche
I didn’t heed God’s ban
And a hot stream of oil
Amuru's shoulder was burned.

Doesn't fly away from Psyche
Winged god in the dark of night.
With the innocent whiteness of the lily
The serpent was forever combined.

Love is an irresistible force.
She knows no barriers.
Even death did not defeat her,
The earthly one does not fear hell.

Aldonsa rough burns,
Transformed in love
And again Don Quixote says:
“Live, beautiful, live!”

And Dulcinea appears,
Burning like a young dawn,
Flaming with innocent passion,
Creating a holy covenant of love.

Don't believe what they said
Traditions alien to love.
Give praise to the sovereign power
And bless the power of love.

Fedor Sologub
* * *
The moon's sinless radiance,
The dispassionate dream of silent oak forests,
And in the hazy field there is magic,
Whispering grass...

The midnight roads converged.
I'm at the crossroads again, -
But come to you, demons and gods,
I want to appeal?

Under the immaculate moon
Listening to the sensitive silence,
Everything that appeared before me
Calling me.

A white shirt flashes -
And the grass is as pale as snow,
Trembling with joyful fear,
She's coming.

I don't want her hugs
I hate the charm of wives
I am the power of unearthly spells
Mesmerized.

But the witch says to me: “Again
I tell you the secret of life.
And there is not and there was no Other, -
But I am Yours.

Demons and gods burned.
But I've always been with you
Where two roads met
Good and evil."

The white shirt fell
And in front of me, naked,
Trembling with passion and fear,
She's standing.

Fedor Sologub
* * *
With love playing lightly,
We have found a blissful land.
We tasted the joy of paradise,
Sweeter than God's paradise.

Caressing thin hands
And legs your dears,
I was languishing from sweet flour,
Which the nightingales did not know.

With you in the uncrushed meadow
Kissing in the shade of birches,
I reveled in the aroma
More fragrant than scarlet roses.

Play with a cheerful child,
With innocent tenderness of eyes,
You babble loudly, loudly,
Just as the stream does not babble.

Playing with light love,
We only entered the first paradise:
It was not the wine that flowed while playing,
The foam was overflowing.

And two deep glasses
From thin-sounding glass
You put it to the bright cup
And the sweet foam poured out,

Leela, Leela, Leela, rocked
Two scarlet glasses.
Whiter than lily, whiter than lala
You were white and ala.

And in the gently crystalline ringings
The sweet poison is melting,
She was sweeter than kissing maidens
You, my joyful death!

Igor Severyanin
IT WAS BY THE SEA
Poem-mignonette

It was by the sea, where the lacy foam
Where a city crew is rarely found...
The Queen played - in the castle tower - Chopin,
And, listening to Chopin, her page fell in love.

It was all very simple, it was all very nice:
The queen asked to cut the pomegranate,
And she gave half, and exhausted the page,
And she fell in love with the page, all in the tunes of sonatas.

And then it echoed, echoed thunderously,
The mistress slept as a slave until sunrise...
It was by the sea, where the wave was turquoise,
Where is the openwork foam and the page's sonata.

Konstantin Balmont
PLAYING LOVE GAMES
There are kisses - like free dreams,
Blissfully bright, to the point of frenzy.
There are kisses - cold as snow.
There are kisses - like an insult.

Oh, kisses are forcibly given,
Oh, kisses - in the name of vengeance!
How burning, how strange,
With their flash of happiness and disgust!

Run with trembling frenzy,
There is no measure to my dreams, and there is no name.
I am strong - by the will of my love,
I am strong in insolence - indignation!

Konstantin Balmont
* * *
You can live with eyes closed,
Wanting nothing in the world
And say goodbye to heaven forever,
And understand that everything around is dead.

You can live, silently growing cold,
Not counting the dying minutes,
How does he live? autumn forest, thinning,
How faded dreams live on.

You can leave everything you cherish,
You can fall out of love without a trace.
But you can’t cool down to the past,
But we cannot forget about the past!

Konstantin Balmont
* * *
There's not a day that I don't think about you
There is not an hour when I don't desire you.
Curse of unseeing fate,
The sage said that the world is shamefully small.

Shamefully small and cramped for a dream,
And yet you are far from me.
Oh, my pain! I only want you,
I thirst for new pain and fire!

I love you with a capricious dream,
I love you with all the strength of my soul,
I love you with all my young blood,
I love you, I love you, hurry up!

Konstantin Balmont
* * *
She gave herself without reproach,
She kissed without words.
- Like a dark sea deep,
How the edges of the clouds breathe!

She didn’t say, “Don’t,”
She didn't expect vows.
- How sweetly the coolness breathes,
How the evening darkness melts away!

She was not afraid of retribution
She wasn't afraid of loss.
- How fabulously the constellations shine,
How the stars burn immortally!

Konstantin Balmont
* * *
I want you, my happiness,
My unearthly beauty!
You are the sun in the darkness of bad weather,
You are the dew that burns the heart!

Inspired by love for you,
I will rush into battle with fate.
Like an ear scorched by a thunderstorm,
I will bow in the dust before you.

For the sweet delight of rapture
I will pay with my life!
At least at the cost of crime -
I want you!

Konstantin Balmont
* * *
Oh, woman, child, accustomed to play
And the gaze of tender eyes, and the caress of a kiss,
I should despise you with all my heart,
And I love you, worrying and yearning!

I love and long for you, I forgive and love,
I live alone with you in my passionate torments,
For your whim I will destroy my soul,
Take everything, take everything for yourself - for the look of the beautiful eyes,

For a lying word that is more tender than truth,
For the sweet melancholy of ecstatic torment!
You, sea of ​​strange dreams, and sounds, and lights!
You, friend and eternal enemy! Evil spirit and a good genius!

Konstantin Balmont
UNTIL THE LAST DAY
Maybe when you leave me,
You will be colder towards me.
But all my life, until last day,
Oh my friend, you will be mine.

I know that new passions will come,
With someone else you will forget yourself again.
But in my memory the old images wait,
And old love smolders.

And there will be a painfully sweet moment:
In the rays of the departed day,
With another, looking into the immortal spring,
You will tremble and remember me.

Semyon Nadson
* * *
Only the morning of love is good: good
Only the first, timid speeches,
The thrill of a virgin-pure, bashful soul,
Omissions and cursory meetings,
A game of cross hints and glances,
Now hope, now blind jealousy;
An unforgettable time full of happiness,
On earth - the pleasure of heaven!..
A kiss is the first step to cooling down: a dream
And it became possible and close;
With a kiss, purity drops the wreath,
And the idol is brought down from the pedestal;
The voice of the heart is barely audible, but it speaks
The voice of blood and thought are intoxicating:
Loves the one who boils with craziest desire,
The one who kisses the craziest loves...
The bright temple has been turned into a voluptuous harem,
The sounds of sacred prayers have ceased,
And the sinfully flaming priest is inflamed
A sultry thirst for earthly pleasures.
The gaze, previously chained to the beautiful eyes
And burning with bashful prayer,
Now he's brazenly wandering around open shoulders,
Naked by a shameless hand...
Next - a moment of pleasure, and lush flower
Crumpled and boldly torn, and again
The seething stream will not give up his life,
Merciless waves of the past...
The celebration of feelings is over... the lights have gone out,
The masks are removed and the blush is washed off;
And the boring days drag on tediously
Vulgar prose, melancholy and deception!..