Author of quotes: Konstantin Mikhailovich Fofanov

In the circle of heartless and darkness,
Where are all bigots and hypocrites,
Where there is no warm spark of faith,
You have and is old.
But lie did not dare touch
Your spiritual purity
Are you looking for a different destiny,
Other dreams are seeking you.

Nature blesses us,
Scattering your patterned cover
Welcoming from water to expanse of the sky
Radiance scarlet dawn, the breath of flowers.

Life everlasting mystery,
And death is oblivion it.
But as oblivion nor sweet
Believe me, that sweet Genesis.

As long as I live, the universe shines
Die with me, die fearlessly it;
My spirit it gives life, gives life and warms,
Without him she's miserable and dark.

The poet's two kingdoms: one of the rays
Bright blue, clear;
And another benmeziane nights darker,
Like a blank dungeon rainy.
In the darkness drags a number of cloudy days,
And in the azure - moment beautiful.

Fear not the gloom of the grave,
Live, suffer and hope...
Fight until the soul is power,
And the forces will not - die!

In rags the truth wanders,
Passing from century to century,
And, like contagion, avoids
Her, alien, man.

The universe is in me, and I in the soul of the universe.
They are have me with her, my birthday.
In my soul the fire burns her sacred
And it always spilled my being.

And our days ever century
Pages of history will close.
And what is in them? Impotence and melancholy.
Know not what to demolish and build!
Blind passion, worrying lives
And the idea - in the quiet of the lazily languishing.
And all we expect from everyday worries,
Waiting for something... What? Nobody knows!
And the days go by... On a dead "yesterday"
Resurrected "today," so it seems!
And the same dreams and the same feelings of the game
And we are the same, and the sun in the sky the same!..

The stars are clear, the stars are beautiful
Whispered tales of strange colours,
Petals satin smiled,
Shook the leaves of emerald.
And the flowers, drunk with dew,
Told tales the gentle flowers, -
And the winds sang their rebel
Over land, over the waves, over rocks.

The sad glow of the sunset
Looking through curly fir.
My soul is enveloped in sadness, -
It sounds of love ring out.

Cools the West rose,
Night wet with rain.
Smells kidney birch,
Wet gravel and sand.
Raced the storm over the grove
The fog has risen from the plains.
And trembling leaves skinny
The darkness scared of heights.
Asleep and delirious midnight vernal,
Timid breathing cold.
After storms spring sinless,
Like a love-sick soul.

Ah, the economical wisdom of life:
Everything is new in it is sewn from old!

The garden, like wine, the older, the dearer
The more it the games and aroma.
It is especially dear to the eyes
When art is somewhat dented
Envious rival people
Nature, which is rich in
Slovenliness and beauty
And pride that are available for her!