Author of quotes: John Masefield

All writers strive to understand the spirit of its people.

Oh, mercy, Beauty! Give me strong power
Rich - money, young - their dream.
And to me from all the bounty leave it
July noon and April in bloom.
As a beggar in the crowd on the shore,
Where everybody is shouting, swearing, hubbub,
Where are all scurrying, pushing, running,
Tearfully begging for a copper penny,
So I'm in this perpetual bustle,
A whirl of sounds and lights
Only one thing I pray of Beauty,
Pray for yourself and for people:
Give us a little wisdom and strength,
While we eternal darkness swallowed.

I saw the sunset in the marshes and mountain peaks - the dawn
Beautiful like an old Spanish melody line,
And then, as April every year gives us a bouquet of daffodils,
Spring rain freshness and the smell of the grass meadow.
I heard the mermaid song and the howling of the ocean depths
And sail changing, a lot of exotic countries I've seen.
But still much more pleasant all I've seen paintings
Your look, your braids, your voice and your lips delicate oval.

Before I was a rake, a player, scatterbrain,
Only once in the tavern, where the noise and hubbub,
Met a pale girl with sad eyes,
With the voice, that singing birds are similar.
I remember, as the movement of a slim hand
Stranger to the eyes touched mine,
And flowed in the mist of hair curls,
Like a blissful Paradise of incense smoke.
And her words were like a sweet balm,
What my soul bore the light of deliverance.
Since then, all wandering I have one in the yards
And hard looking for her in dark trail.

Come back to us, the West wind, full of screaming birds
Go back to dry the tears that froze in the pits of their sockets.
Move us from a far distance, because of the ancient brown hills
Bringing the breath of April and the thick scent of flowers.
He's from a place where the weary heart is destined to find peace,
Where apples from the bent branches and the air drunk as an infusion,
Where the green grass cool and pulls to lie down on it
Where the melodies of the thrush, as the flute is heard among the branches.
"Say, won't you come home to your abandoned region,
Where replaces the APR dressed in white may,
Where is the generous sun, the warm rain and thunder funny?
Tell me, will you not return to your once forgotten house?
Only here you will be able to see rabbits scurrying in the grass
Like floating clouds caravans in the boundless heavens blue,
And feel in the heart of the song and the boiling blood in his veins,
And understand wild bees heard that the spring has returned to us again.
<...>
I will take the white road that leads to the West itself
In the realm of herbs, where I find rest for heart and mind,
The edge of the violets, hearts, hot, and singing in the branches Drozdov,
To those lovely Western land, where my home is, where my father's blood.

Where Bermuda and the Caribbean, washed by the foam roller,
Where the shade of orange a number of houses, the white rose,
There cool waves splash the face, as in a flurry,
Swift trade winds.
Where strong amber beer and wine
Dancing with a strong joke at the same time,
There on the mast inflated canvas canvas
Swift trade winds.
Where scattered across the sky myriad starry swarms
And, interwoven branches, palm trees gently whisper: "go to Sleep!",
There call my name and beckon fertile in this region
Swift trade winds.

In the moonlight on the wings of Chopin
Flies to us dancer - she
Lovely, like the bygone spring.
Her smile and movement
We are forced to forget for a moment
Cruel world, the worries and anguish.
She is young, beautiful, inspired.
She the air in a whirlwind pirouette,
A boy's dream and delight men.
Let the Kingdom in ruins -
Now the smile and movement
Give us the madness of inspiration
All the things in everyday life no name.
Alarmed by lunar sea
She glides, the giver of light.

Again I am drawn to the sea,
and every foamy surf
Marine shafts,
as the ancient call,
that pulls me along.
I just need a windy day
gray clouds in the sky,
The flying spray,
and foam scraps,
and seagulls disturbing moan.

Again I am drawn to the sea,
around where the sky and water.
I just need a tall ship
and in the sky one star
And the songs of the winds, and the helm tremors
and the white sail shaking,
And the grey, misty dawn over the water
which are eagerly awaiting.