Do not sleep to me. Such a moon.
As if shore
In the soul lost youth.
Girlfriend cooling years
Do not call the game of love,
Let this moonlight be better
To me rushes to the headboard.
Let distorted traits
He facilitates boldly, -
After all, it is not possible to sob
How to love you failed.
You can only love once
That's why you are someone else's
That linden is in vain,
In the legs of the feet plunging.
After all, I know and you know you
What's in this highlight lunar, blue
On these lips are not flowers -
On these linden snow and frost.
That we have long ago,
You are not me, and I am another,
And both of us anyway
Play love is inexpensive.
But still caress and hug
In the lucavo passion kiss,
Let the heart ever dream of May
And the one that I love forever.
***
Well, kiss me, kiss,
Although before blood, even before pain.
Not in Lada with Cold Will
Boiling water cardiac jets.
Tilted circle
The medium of fun not for us.
Understand my girlfriend,
On earth live only once!
Look at calm eyes,
Look: in the MGL raw
A month as if yellow raven,
Running, goes over the ground.
Well, kiss! So I want.
The song Tlen lost and me.
Seen, my death hurt
The one who goes in the embroidery.
Fading force!
Dying so dying!
Before the death of the lips of cute
I would like to kiss.
So that all the time in blue Dremov,
Not having and not tai
In a gentle rustle black
Dusted: "I'm yours."
And so that the light over the full mug
Easy foam did not go out -
Pey and sing, my girlfriend:
On earth live only once!
***
Do not look at me with reproach
Do not look at me with reproach,
I don't touch you contempt
But I love your eyes with the crowd
And your gloomy meekness.
Yes, you seek me open,
And, perhaps, see I am glad
Like a fox, pretending to be dead
Catching crows and are boring.
Well, and what, catch, I'm not a string.
Just how would your dust go out?
On my cool soul
They stumbled such more than once.
I don't like you, dear,
You are only szvuk, only a shadow.
I am in your face you dream another
Which eyes are dove.
Let it not look like meek
And, perhaps, it is cold
But she is a greatest walk
Stayed my soul to the bottom.
Here is such a barely squeeze,
And you do not want to go, let you go
Well, you don't even rotate in my heart
Loaded lies.
But still, you despise
I'm embarrassed by turning forever:
If there was no hell and paradise,
Their himself was invented.
***
Letter to woman
You remember,
You are all, of course, remember
How I stood
Approaching the wall
You excitedly walked around the room
And something sharp
In the face threw me.
You said:
It's time for us to part
What is you volatile
My crazy life
What time you have to take it out
And my lot -
Roll further down.
Favorite!
You did not love me.
You did not know that in the hithert
I was like a horse, drove in soap,
Bold rideway.
You did not know
That I am in solid smoke
In a rave buoy life
Since Intr. I do not understand -
Where the rock events carries us.
Face to face
Persons not see.
Large seemingly over the distance.
When boils marine smooth
Ship in the deplorable state.
Earth - ship!
But someone suddenly
For a new life, new glory
In the straight thick of storms and blizzards
She sent great.
Well, who is from us on the deck
Did not fall, did not blame and did not swear?
There are few of them, with an experienced soul,
Who remained strong in the ripe.
Then I am
Under wild noise
But a sound knowledge
Descended into the ship's ship
So as not to watch human vomiting.
That thymus was -
Russian kabac.
And I bowed over a glass,
So, not suffering about any
Retribute yourself
In the ugon is drunk.
Favorite!
I tormented you
You had melancholy
In the eyes of tired:
That I am before you
It was squandered in scandals.
But you did not know
What's in solid smoke
In a rave buoy life
With that and suffer
What I do not understand
Where the rock events carries us ...
Now the years have passed.
I'm aged in another.
And I feel and think in different.
And I speak for festive wine:
Praise and glory to steering!
Today I
In the strike of gentle feelings.
I remembered your sad fatigue.
And now
I will inform you rush
What was I was,
And what happened to me!
Favorite!
To say nice to me:
I escaped the paddy with a circle.
Now in the Soviet side
I am the most fierce fellow traveler.
I did not
Who was then.
I would not torment you
As it was before.
For the banner of liberty
And light labor
Ready to walk at least to La Mansha.
Forgive me ...
I know: you are not ta -
You live
With a serious, smart husband;
What you don't need our Matahe
And I myself am
Neither the droplets are needed.
Live like that
How the star leads you
Under the renewed sense.
With greetings
You remember always
Familiar yours
Sergey Yesenin.
***
You do not love me, do not regret
Is I not a little wrong?
Despite the face, the passion is flashing,
I put my hands on the shoulders.
Young, with sensual ruffle,
I am not gentle and not rude.
Tell me how many you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips
I know - they passed like shadows,
Without touching your fire
Many you kneels,
And now you sit here.
Let your half-closed eyes
And you think about someone else,
I love you not very much,
Drowning in the far road.
This fervor does not call the fate,
Lugodumna quick-tempered communication -
How accidentally met to you,
Smile, calmly disperse.
Yes, and you will go your expensive
Spray badly
Only unknown do not touch
Only non-unheard not mani.
And when with another alley
You will pass, bold about love,
Maybe I will go for a walk,
And we will meet with you again.
Turning to another closer
And leaning down a bit
You tell me quiet: "Good evening!"
I will answer: "Good evening, Miss."
And nothing soul disturbs
And nothing will quit her in a shiver -
Who loved, he can't love
Who burned, you will not wait.
***
Get someway from the window
Don't go to me under the window
And green grass do not hurry,
I walked you for a long time,
But do not cry, but calmly silently.
I regret you with all my soul
What do you need to my beauty?
Why don't you rest
And why are you so tormenting?
Anyway, I will not be yours
I no longer love anyone
I do not like, but I regret
Get away from my window!
Forget that I was yours,
What madly loved you
I do not like now, but I regret
Get away and do not flock me.
***
Hands of cute - a pair of swans -
My hair is dive in gold.
Everything in this world from people
Song of love sing and repeat.
Sang and I once far
And now I sing about the same again
Therefore breathes deep
Tenderness impregnated word.
If the soul is dropped up to the bottom,
The heart will be a bilber gold
Only Tehran Moon
Does not warm the songs with warmth.
I don't know how to live life:
Celers in caressing a cute steps
Ile under old age to trim
About the last song brave?
Everything has its own walking:
What is nice to ear, that - for the eye.
If PERS fogs a bad song,
It means that he is voiced out of shiraz.
About me and for these songs
Speak so among people:
He would sang a gentle and wonderful,
Yes, there was a couple of swans.
***
I remember my favorite, I remember
The glow of your hair.
Not joyful and not easy to me
Leave you led.
I remember the autumn nights,
Birch rustling of shadows,
Let the days then were shorter,
The moon laminated us longer.
I remember you told me:
"Blue years will pass,
And you will take a visit, my dear,
With another forever. "
Today is blooming linden
Reminded the feelings again
How gently then i raude
Flowers on curly strand.
And heart, cool without getting ready,
And sad other loving
As if a favorite story
On the other I remember you.
***
My wife's wound went down -
Drunk nonsense does not hesitate to me.
Blue flowers Tehrana
I am flying them now in Chayharan.
The teahouse itself with round shoulders,
To famous for Russian teahouse,
Treats me with red tea
Instead of strong vodka and wine.
Robbing, owner, but not very.
Many roses blooms in your garden.
Intrutically I blinked the eyes,
Thinking black chader.
We are in Russia spring girls
On the chains do not hold like dogs,
Kisses learn without money,
Without dagger tricks and fights.
Well, and this movement of the mill,
That face looks like a dawn,
I will give me Shal from Khorsana
And the carpet Shirazi give.
Pull the owner, tight tea,
I do not really lie to you.
For myself I am now answering
I can not answer for you.
And on the door you look like not very,
Anyway, the gate is in the garden ...
Intrutically I blinked the eyes,
Thinking black chader.
***
I'm sad to watch you
What pain, what pity!
Know only feed copper
We in September left with you.
Other lips have been spread
Your warmth and thrill body.
As if the rain is driving
From the soul, a little dead.
Well! I'm not afraid of him.
Other joy opened to me.
After all, nothing remains
As soon as yellow tlen and dampness.
After all, I will not save yourself
For a quiet life, for smiles.
So little passed roads
So much made mistakes.
Funny life, funny break.
So it was so will be after.
As a cemetery, license garden
In birch of bones.
Here is also flashing and we
And seating, like guests of the garden ...
Since there are no colors among winter,
So sadness does not need to be sad.
***
You left and do not come back to me,
You forgot my corner,
And now you laugh another
Hiding in a white handkerchief.
I am sad, and boring, and sorry,
Uncomfortable fireplace My burns.
But to-red in the book of violet
All about happiness was saying.
***
Swans and not to look for a trace.
You sent me forever.
With scarlet juice berries on the skin,
Tender, beautiful, was
On the sunset you pink looks
And, like snow, rays and light.
Your grains of your eyes sat down, started
The name is thin melted like sound
But remained in the folds crumpled shawl
The smell of honey from innocent hands.
In a quiet hour when driving on the roof,
Like a kitten, washes her mouth mouth,
Talking meek about you I hear
Water singing with wind honeycomb.
Let some be whispering to me a blue evening,
That you were a song and a dream,
All Well, who invented your flexible mill and shoulders -
Bright secret attached mouth.
Do not wander, not to mine in the bushes of the crimson
Swans and not to look for a trace.
With hair sheaf your oatmeal
You sent me forever.
***
You don't have a cool
And do not ask how old I am,
Obsessed with heavy package
I became soul like a yellow skeleton.
There was a time when out of the suburbs
I dreamed of a boyishness - in smoke,
That I will be rich and known
And that I love everyone.
Yes! I'm rich, rich with a breathtaking.
There was a cylinder, and now it is not.
Only one manica remained
With a fashionable pair of beaten shtiblet.
And my fame is not worse -
From Moscow to Paris Rvan
My name hurts horror
As a fence loud brand.
And love, not funny?
You kiss, and lips like tin.
I know my feeling overripe,
And your will not be able to flourish.
I still griely soon,
Well, if there is sadness - not trouble!
Golden Your Kos on Kurganam
Young coat of swan.
I would like again to the terrain,
So that under the noise of the young swan
Drown forever in the unknown
And dream of a boyishness - in smoke.
But dream of a friend about new,
Incomprehensible land and grass,
What not to express the heart to the word
And call a person.
***
The Blue Fire was noticed
Forgiven the births were given.
I was all - as a launched garden,
Was on women and potions dropsy.
I broke down to drink and dance
And lose your life without looking back.
I would only look at you,
See the eyes of Zlato-Karya Out
And so that the past is not loving,
You could not go to another.
Tear gentle, light mill,
If you knew you with a stubborn heart,
How can love hooligan,
How can he be submissive.
I used forever I forgot Kabaki
And the poems would have scored.
Just b thin touch
And your hair is color in autumn.
I would go beyond you
Although in your, even though they were given ...
For the first time I got about love,
For the first time, I repean the scandal.
***
Blue sweater. Blue eyes.
No, I didn't say a cute truth.
Cute asked: "Does blizzard turn?
To flood the stove, bed bed. "
I answered sweetly: "Now from the height
Someone shook white flowers.
Farming you stove, bed bed,
I have a blizzard on my heart. "
***
Shagana you are mine, Shagana!
I am ready to tell you the field,
About wavy rye under the moon.
Shagana you are mine, Shagana.
Because I'm from the north, or
That the moon is a lot a hundred times
No matter how beautiful Shiraza,
It is not better than Ryazan discount.
Because I'm from the north, or something.
I am ready to tell you the field,
I took these hair from rye,
If you want, on the finger knie -
I do not feel any pain.
I am ready to tell you the field.
About wavy rye under the moon
For curly you can guess.
Dear, jealous, smile,
Not wake only memory in me
About wavy rye under the moon.
Shagana you are mine, Shagana!
There, in the north, girl too,
She is scary on you,
Maybe thinks about me ...
Shagana you are mine, Shagana.
***
You cried in evening silence,
And the tears of bitter on the ground dropped,
And it was hard and so sad to me.
And yet we did not understand each other.
You were smelled in distant edges,
And all the dreams fade without color,
And again, I stayed alone
Suffer soul without caress and bring.
And often I sometimes sometimes
I go to the venues of cherished databa,
And I see in dreams to me a cute image of yours,
And hear in silence dreary sobbing.
***
Spring on joy is not like
Spring on joy is not like
And there is no yellow sand from the sun.
Your weathered skin
Bucked buckwheat gun.
Blue waterproof
On a broader swan
We swore what will happen two
And they will not part anywhere.
Cadyl Three and Evening Skinny
Twisting on fiery thread
I spent you to a grove
To your parents.
And for a long time - long in the drema
I could not tear off the face
When you with a tender smile
I waved a hat with a porch.
***
It can be seen, so it is forever -
To thirty years, getting around
All strongest, burned cripples,
With life, we hold the connection.
Honey, I will soon knock on thirty
And the earth mile me every day.
Because the heart began to dream,
What I grieved with pink fire.
Kohl burn, so burn burns,
And no wonder in the linden color
I took out the ring from the parrot -
A sign that together to burn us.
Then the ring put on my gypsy.
Having removed from his hands, I gave it to you,
And now, when the shaman is sad,
I can not not think, do not rob.
In the head, the marsh is wandering my ohut,
And on the heart of frost and blame:
Maybe someone else
Did you give him laugh?
Maybe kissing until dawn,
He asks you myself,
As a funny, stupid poet
He led to sensory poems.
Well, and so! This wound will pass.
Just bitter to see the Life of the Edge.
For the first time such a hooligan
Deceived the damned parrot.
***
Let you cook others
But I have left, I have left
Your hair smoke
And the eye is autumn fatigue.
Oh, the age of autumn! He is me
More expensive of youth and summer.
You have become doubly
Imagination of the poet.
I never lie in the heart
And therefore on the voice of the Chvanism
Can be used to say
What I say goodbye to hooliganism.
It's time to part with naughty
And reclamation courage.
I got drunk different
Blood cutting in Braga.
And I knocked into the window
September Criminal Branch Willow,
So I was ready and met
His parish is leisurely.
Now I am very lary
Without forced, without loss.
I seem to me Russia.
Other - cemeteries and huts.
Transparently I look around
And I see, whether, is there, somewhere else,
That you are alone, sister and friend
Could be a poet's companion.
That I could
Educated in constancy
Go about the twilight
And outgoing hooliganism.
What night! I can not.
Do not sleep to me. Such a moon.
As if shore
In the soul lost youth.
Girlfriend cooling years
Do not call the game of love,
Let this moonlight be better
To me rushes to the headboard.
Let distorted traits
He facilitates boldly, -
After all, it is not possible to sob
How to love you failed.
You can only love once
That's why you are someone else's
That linden is in vain,
In the legs of the feet plunging.
After all, I know and you know you
What's in this highlight lunar, blue
On these lips are not flowers -
On these linden snow and frost.
That we have long ago,
You are not me, and I am another,
And both of us anyway
Play love is inexpensive.
But still caress and hug
In the lucavo passion kiss,
Let the heart ever dream of May
And the one that I love forever.
Analysis of the poem "What night! I can't ... "Yesenina
The last years of Yesenin's life is marked by the deepest mental crisis. The poet is painfully looking for a way out of this difficult situation. In an effort to breathe out of problems, he found consolation in alcohol and disorderly love connections. This salvation could be S. Thick - granddaughter of the Great Writer. They met at the beginning of 1925. Tolstaya at first glance fell in love with a scandalous poet, who replied to her reciprocity. Yesenin estimated that the woman reacted with him with what attention and care. He hoped that with her help would be able to get rid of his destructive habit and finally find peace. But even a joint life and the official conclusion of marriage changed little. A sober and fruitful lifestyle kneaded from the poet with the days of heavy swallows. After one of the most terrible in November 1925, Yesenin under pressure from spouses and close friends lay for treatment in a psychiatric clinic. In it, he wrote a poem "What night! I can not ... ", which is dedicated to S. Tolstoy. The poet suffers from insomnia and reflects on his feelings to his wife.
Contemporaries remembered that the thick poet's bastvine. Many discouraged her from marriage, pointing that Yesenin would already be incorporated. But she hoped for the power of her love, which would bring them both happiness. In the poem, the poet appeals to his last wife with very bitter and offensive for her words. He admits that all this idea with a wedding from the very beginning was just a game. Yesenin knew how much a woman was predicted. Therefore, he declares that she can no longer be able to sob. At the same time, he considers her feeling to be unreal ("you failed to love"). The poet expresses the idea that love for a person comes "only once" in life. About his countless novels and so well. Thick at the time of acquaintance with Yesenin was also married.
The poet traditionally appeals to the images of nature. The spouses created in their imagination the illusory picture of the new spring associated with the May call of Lip. But the "Moonlight" dispelled this fantastic look, showing that on linden "not flowers", but only "snow and frost." Therefore, Yesenin calls his last love "inexpensive." Taking the wife's hot caress, he still turns to the past. In the final, the poet hints that so far is devoted to his first and only love. Probably, he means A. Sardanovskaya.
"What night! I can't ... "Sergey Yesenin
What night! I can not.
Do not sleep to me. Such a moon.
As if shore
In the soul lost youth.Girlfriend cooling years
Do not call the game of love,
Let this moonlight be better
To me rushes to the headboard.Let distorted traits
He facilitates boldly, -
After all, it is not possible to sob
How to love you failed.You can only love once
That's why you are someone else's
That linden is in vain,
In the legs of the feet plunging.After all, I know and you know you
What's in this highlight lunar, blue
On these lips are not flowers -
On these linden snow and frost.That we have long ago,
You are not me, and I am another,
And both of us anyway
Play love is inexpensive.But still caress and hug
In the lucavo passion kiss,
Let the heart ever dream of May
And the one that I love forever.
Analysis of the poem of Yesenin "What night! I can not…"
On the last year of life, Sergey Yesenin no longer hid his senses and openly wrote about what he had stabbed his soul. Probably for this reason, he continued further and further from his colleagues, who in favor of the new government glorified collectivization and advocated the construction of socialism. Yesenin was so far from all this, which was repeatedly becoming an object of criticism. However, this did not bother him at all, because the poet premeditated his ambulance. He understood that the destruction of the soul certainly follows physical death, and up to this point there is quite a bit of time.
About a month before the death of Yesenin, wrote a poem "What night! I can't ... ", in which mentally returned to his past and suddenly clearly realized that nothing could change anything in his own life. He repeatedly tried to escape from himself and even married himself for the third time, trying to get rid of the oppressive feeling of loneliness. However, very soon realized that his marriage with Sofia Tolstoy was a mistake. It is a relationship with this woman and a poem is dedicated to the poem, in which the poet without a fortune admits that "we have dug a long time ago, you are not me, and I am another." He does not try to find an answer to the question why then it is at this moment next to a woman who is completely indifferent to him. But at the same time he understands that he doesn't need a young spouse at all, and her talked tenderness is also deceptive and fake, like linden outside the window, on the branches of which instead of fragrant flowers lies the first November snow.
"You can only love once if you are alien to me," the poet admits me, however, it cannot and does not want to force himself to break this vicious circle and change his own life. Yes, and it makes sense to do this Yesenin does not see, considering that it is much easier and more familiar to "play in an inexpensive love" than to try to truly love. And on this night, when the memories of youth again flooded him, the poet dreams only about one thing: "Let the heart ever dream of May and the one that I love forever."
Who is this mysterious unfamiliar? The story is silent, although there are many versions about who exactly the secret lady of the heart of the poet. The fact that their number does not belong not to one of the former wives are obvious. Essenin's life and creativity researchers tend to believe that this is about Anna Sardanovskaya, in which the poet was in love with his youth, but could not confess to his chosen one. Subsequently, Sardanovskaya married and died at the time of childbirth, what Yesenin learned only a few years after her death.