Book: The poet. Page 1

So he lived in literature, a well-known and no one knows. He lived, as an icebreaker stuck in the ocean of cotton wool.

The young author should submit the manuscript talented, not hope.

Complaint the modern Prometheus:
- Not to me it's a shame that peck at my liver. And what a shame that the parrot, not an eagle pecking at my liver. When Zeus was majestic.

His poetry was irritated by the literary authorities that were neither Soviet nor anti-Soviet.

Friends of Khrushchev heard that nomenclature is preparing a coup under the code name "Attack on tiptoe". They offered Khrushchev a preemptive gesture: peace to hang on the red square five or six intellectuals, no, no more, and then the item will be scared and would calm down. As for the West not to make noise, to draw the hanged intellectuals as volunteers.

A real poet is a person who snatches from the fire a burning ember and write them in clear handwriting.