- -
- 100%
- +
© V. Speys, 2022
ISBN 978-5-0059-4200-5
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Philosophy of Love
The sunset was running in a wavy, slow river.
Through its yellow light streamed
Your image is golden…
Unshared Love
Quiet, ingratiating walking
The night is filled with you,
The street has passed.
Morning, the light dawn,
Radiant play
Following led.
The day went on with a clear light.
And a beam of amber dressed,
Shone with fire.
Only you are not with me
Do not be warmed by your love
Paints fade in it.
Moon Ray
Moon foliage silvered
And Ray, casually dropping,
The young girl, has forgotten
Illuminating the window.
And Ray Selena, surprised,
Struck by young beauty,
Froze in amazement,
Admiring virgin’s nudity.
The moon, his casting, having committed,
In heaven, among the stars fell asleep.
Shining mountain letting go,
Ray, asleep granny.
And the Ray, suddenly, felt the force
Radiance brilliance and beauty.
Think of myself, as the Moon,
As an important page in height.
And the girl dreamed of a prince,
Battled by virgin nudity
To the Persians, bowing down.
His own, touching the beauty…
Moonlight Sonata
A warm evening floats towards sunset,
In a gray haze doze home.
And silently sings sonata
The setting Day of Silence.
Outside the window the ocean shines,
The moon spreads fairy tale.
Through the rays arises, sculpted,
An image of a pretty woman, a wave.
The windows of the room are translucent.
A light shadow slides the moon.
And mysteriously, strangely, mysteriously.
In the moonlight she appeared…
Already standing before me shyly,
A look sad at the drooping.
The golden Wavy hair are loose,
Soft curls gentle motive.
The night replaced the sunset
Already in the shine the moon, sleeps at home.
Only, barely audible, sings the sonata
Moon tale Silence.
Your image is golden…
The transparent sky burns,
On tapes of clouds, gold, throws.
Crystal yellow leaf.
The sunset, dimming, fades away…
My beautiful, shy,
You bare my shoulder.
Light up pearl shine…
A smooth hand touched
The waves of the body…
And, startled, you are tense.
The waves through the fabric are translucent,
Sigh gently under the canvas.
And anxiously, in a fit of passionate,
Impatiently ripped off he…
So before me, in the twilight,
Wavy, slow river, sunset was running.
Through its yellow light streamed
Your image is golden.
Above the fast run of vernal waters
Above the fast run of vernal waters,
Already buds blossomed.
The trees a slender arch,
On the branches of small leaves.
The moon in the silence of the night stands.
Haystacks cast shadows.
The river glitters in its rays
A wave of foam is full.
And is a girl in the waves of the river
Frolicking, as fish slid,
Foam in them, the wave drove.
Over the waves the girl lifted,
Under the moon river caressed her.
Above the fast run of vernal waters,
Already buds blossomed.
And brighter than the moon’s sky,
Gentle early leaves.
You are no longer with me
In the depths of fast waters.
Only the memory of you sings:
– “You were once proud of her!
That girl in the waves of the river,
What fish slid with you,
That foam hid in them,
That dance with the wave drove…
You remember, wounded, behind her,
Cupid’s arrow in the heart,
Dived! Already near, with her!…
Do girls have a heart singing?!”
Oh! How beautiful was!
Spring, loose buds.
And the bank of the river is a cliff,
And the first love sprout.
I do not believe in myth
I do not believe in myth, no, I do not believe.
But, in reality, I met with you.
From my fairy tale you may be inspired.
I feel a breeze in the spring…
Even in the fields the grass was not green,
Another sprout did not come to life on the crowns.
And I saw everything in the green of the oak,
And I heard your singing voice.
I hear voice the spring,
I recognized him in the rustle of foliage.
From my fairy tale he may be inspired,
That light breeze from Spring.
I recognized you in everything
I recognized you in everything:
In the glow of the sun golden
In the exact harmony of birches,
In the crystal droplets of thunderstorms.
She lived only in the heart of reality
You sang, echoing the nightingale.
In the clear silence of the night
I met with you alone.
In the moonlight you came,
By the surface of the lake floated.
Canoe magical with Silence
They introduced with you to me.
But in the morning it was time.
The sky is already near dawn.
And the Night leaves us in a hurry,
And Canoe with you runs away.
Then I rush him.
I grab the prow… I stand alone.
I sometimes had a dream like that.
And so, I met with you.
And you only lived in it,
And I was lonely in the afternoon.
But by chance, in reality,
I recognize your myth in you.
That voice that rings in the creek.
Now I am attracted to you.
In the eye of the lake to look.
Dip your eyes in them.
Birch slender torso.
And you’re a hot kiss to,
May the world suddenly become a living myth
And the sun’s ray, your warmth.
And the sky with pure dawn.
And we met together with you…
Meet with Love, with you
I recognized you in everything:
In the glow of the sun in gold,
In the exact harmony of birches,
In the crystal droplets of dew.
But by chance, in reality,
I recognize your myth in you.
That voice that rings in the creek.
Now I am attracted to you.
In the eyes of the lake to look.
In the eyes, lakes drown.
Birch slender hug…
And a hot kiss to…
So that the World suddenly became a living myth,
And the sun’s ray, your warmth.
Like heaven, with a pure dawn,
Meet with Love, with you…
But still
Terrible, terrible Chimera boredom,
Worse than the solitude of the hand.
And yet there is no separation in the world,
A boredom grind flour.
And the beautiful world will flourish again
With the rising of the sun’s rays.
And the day will be replaced by a clear,
And the burning look of your eyes.
Rose smiled at dawn
Rosa smiled at dawn,
Like a girl, smile flower.
I saw her in the radiant light
In the caressing arms of the breeze.
Beads shone drops of dew
On delicate petals.
To myself lured branches, braids,
Curly curls leaf.
Quietly Ray, mischievous boy,
Sneaked up to Rosa and lit the dew.
On the neck of thin beads flashed,
Sorceress, giving beauty.
And before me arose from Rosa Fairy,
In her grandeur of pure beauty!
The smile of the flower, alley,
So smiled rose, like you.
Dawn in the forest
Morning fog lay down
In the lowlands and meadows.
Cool nights he kept
In fragrant sleeps stacks.
The forest over the river in silence froze,
Peaks of breathing.
And dusk through the woods wandered,
And the mystery was near.
Dawn in the forest caught me.
In the glow of gold,
Sunrise fire was already burning.
With the beam “spoke” then.
Here the beam touched the blue
And flooded the sky with light.
And the forest, waking from silence,
Suddenly, by singing birds he answered.
And finally, at his feet, he fell.
Trembling on the green grass.
The mist from the lowlands gray drove
And turned around in the afternoon fun.
Rain
Noisy Rain sings to me outside the window,
Lulling middle of the day, out of place:
– You forget the sweet dream…
And wets the leaves.
– Thou don’t flatter the to me rain,
Thou of fields of flowers and gardens,
To make them better bloom,
And in the gardens stood shoots.
But rain stubborn noisy pours
And the song is brought to the end.
What does he sing his song about?
Let everyone find the answer himself.
Butterfly
Butterfly flew into the window.
And beating in it, knocking on the glass.
Why rush her, because it is durable
And a century to him from the wings does not open.
Why strive for space,
Through a solid transparent barrier.
Isn’t it better to just settle your argument?
Finding in inaction delight.
Dream and believe in the best moment,
When the window itself suddenly opens.
In that near and far world,
In which you lived and crave to find yourself.
But all the same wonderful world of the glass.
The window itself will not open.
And the butterfly prefers to fall afterwards,
Now continues to fight!
Poplar
He was tall and slim and powerful.
Dropped foliage in the fall at times.
The spring ray caressed him warmly.
In winter, the crown was covered with snow.
He was a lighthouse in the distance.
As an obelisk was visible a mile away from the village.
And, flying past, cranes:
– Kurly! Kurly! – Shouted in his honor.
Sometimes we boast with childish pride:
– A hundred years to him! And it will be a hundred to stand!
But a pile of firewood suddenly appeared.
And where is the poplar?! – Children do not understand. —
Early Autumn
Amber spilled over the foliage,
The trunks of the oak forests are blacker.
Transparent air. In the blue
The forest appears, and the distance is more visible.
And the yellow leaf trembles in the branches.
A gray crown, freezing’s birds.
Crown of trees covered frost.
Will warm, when spring comes.
The call sign with the name Romantic
The girl with beautiful eyes.
Looks from the depths of worlds.
Searches in the of a call sign at night,
Ray of his at the name Romantic.
There in the conglomerates, the placers of galaxies,
Where is this Earth there?
A call sign named Romantic,
Radio wave bears call…
He lives there with blue eyes,
What looks to the height with hope?
In search of a constellation, in the evenings,
Sends you Earthly silence.
The smell of honey herbs spring,
Light wind – kiss,
The leaves of the Earth’s forests in autumn,
And a wreath of rainy summer jets.
Olessya
Like a rare fairy tale, “Olessya!”
Sounds above the river, “Olessya!”
And in the sounds of the mysterious forest
I hear the name, Olessya.
In the singing brook is given.
And a song pours over the lake.
Over green grass and foliage:
“… Stay, stay with me…”
“… Olessya, Olessya, Olessya,
You look like violets of the forest …”
A bottomless resinous river
Hair waterfall veil
Falls on girlish shoulders,
Coquettish bang splashes
And covers his forehead with him.
“… Stay, stay with me…”
I hear in the sounds of spring
And the birds are spread by singing:
“… Olessya, Olessya, Olessya.
Like a fairy tale, like a miracle, like a song …”
To climb a frosty strand
A frosty strand
Early Autumn gray.
Memories, lake surface,
Spring comes up to me.
I look into her blue eyes
On a colorful wreath of hair.
Nightingales see nights
Among the interwoven heavy braids.
And whitens frosty strand
Memory of the night, farewell to that.
Floating above the dark surface
In the hair, gray strands.
Paradise
I love those drunk nights,
What is inhale with the aroma of silence.
And the grass in the meadows is thick,
And on the lake reeds.
Everything is familiar in the home side,
There the singing spring is noisy.
Then you went down the path
The look me, as now, beckons.
I forget you, you know, not in power,
Blue eyed tale me.
And the glade that I often see
There in our birch paradise.
I would forget this garden spring,
What do you remember with your color?
The roar of bees, the aroma of healing,
And your sparkling look.
I would forget this first autumn,
What broke my love.
Only memory has become gray,
I recognize you and myself in it paradise.
In a fit of a timid fairy tale Spring
Reddish groves of larches are empty.
And 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 rain.
Remembering your singing voice,
Dissolved look in my heart.
We walk through the dairy garden
In the buzz of bees, in honey bloom.
The world has disappeared, only you are near
In the universe with you flying.
Here the space is wide open
Myriads of stars gives us:
– Choose any! Us!
– The one that burns brighter than the others!
We are flying in a petal blizzard,
Driving, glowing beam.
And we take it in warm hands,
Wearing on the edge of clouds.
Light white, stars rays,
Dazzle herbs flowers.
Small clouds, curly herd,
Steeped on the distillation.
And today remembering Spring,
I look at our Star,
But, in the gloomy sky of the region,
A cloud of darkness drew a line.
I want to create portraits
I want to create portraits.
To write portraits of pretty women.
To speak colors,
Shades, complementing tenderness.
To lines of bright beauty
Say beautiful: – You are beautiful!
For each face feature.
To write portraits the beauties of the world!
My heart
I take care of you
In my heart is sadness.
And, as a tribute, I guard,
The image of a cute.
Like your farewell,
May morning spring.
Do not float away with the breeze
With fluffy snow.
Let the year’s pass
Quietly sinks in space
But, your word: – Yes!
In white garden decoration.
In the vociferous forest,
In the bird choir spring.
In poplar fluffs,
In the spring breezes.
But your word: – Yes!
I did not hear like a song.
Only: – Never!
The word was the last.
I take care of you
In my heart is sadness.
And, as a tribute to the guard
The image is cute, farewell…
Sorcery love
Pretended to be in love
As a boy weaving words.
And I felt subjugated,
My head bowed to you.
Your knees embraced with passion.
But the hurricane dope passed.
I asked myself a simple question
In you, I found that?!
And you tried to marry me.
Threatened to get underground.
Believe me, I’m ready to strangle before
Then the days with you to pass!!!
With a dream near
Surrounding grove birch grove.
Fun song, bird’s chirps.
With a dream series created from dreams,
Come, ring the stream, sing, splash with water.
I look into the distance, the transparency of the field.
And clouds ridge above the horizon.
Inhaling the purity and aroma of the expanse…
Beyond the distance, and you, beyond the horizon.
Fog blindfolded