© 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.