Author of quotes: Nikolay Alekseevich Nekrasov. Page 2

No, you do not Pushkin. But as long as
Not see the sun of nowhere
With your talent ashamed to sleep;
Still a shame to in the hour of grief
The beauty of the valley, sky and sea
And affection of a cute chant.

Something to MOPE, to mourn the loss?
When used at least make it easier on!
I myself like the creaking of prison doors,
Nasty groans of my heart.

If the long restrained flour
Nakipov, under the heart suit,
I write: rhyming sounds
Breaking my usual work.
All the same, they are not worse than flat prose
Care and soft heart
As suddenly gushing tears
With a distressed face.

A mournful wind blows
A flock of clouds on the edge of heaven.
Spruce broken moans
Muffled whispers in the dark forest.
On the brook, speckled, and mottled,
For leaf flying leaf,
And jet dry and spicy
Accumulates a chill.
Twilight all falls;
Rushing from all sides,
Shouting in the air spinning
A flock of jackdaws and crows.

Share you! - Russian dolyushka female! Hardly more difficult to find.

What is the lamp of the mind faded!
What a heart has ceased to beat!

Once, in the depths of winter,
I came out of the woods; there was a strong frost.
I look, rises slowly up the hill
The horse pulling a cart twigs.
And striding important, the tranquility of Chinna,
Horse leads by the bridle the man
Big boots, a sheepskin coat,
In large gloves... and he and nail!
- Hey, little man! - "Go by yourself!"
- Painfully menacing you, I see!
What is the fuel? "Out of the woods, certainly;
Father, hear cuts, and I bring".
(In the forest, I heard the axe.)
- What, my father a large family?
"The family is large, but two people
Just men something my father and I..."

Yes, if the choice to decide I have
Between husband and son - not more
I'm going where I need more
I go to someone who is in captivity!

No! I'm not miserable slave
I am a woman, wife!
Let my bitter destiny
I will be loyal to her!
Oh, if he remembers me
For other women,
My soul got b forces
Not to be his slave!
But I know the love for the Motherland
Rival mine
And if needed, again
Forgive him I!

Far be it my way, my way is heavy,
Afraid of my destiny,
But steel I'm wearing a chest...
Be proud - I'm your daughter!

In whom does not foster a sense of freedom,
He will not take it; we need not years
Looking for a century, and blood, and fighting,
To a man to create a slave.
<...>
What he book the last say
The soul of his top and lie:
To believe, not to believe - he doesn't care
Just proved clever!

You are poor,
You and rich,
You and mighty,
You are powerless,
Mother Russia!

Native land!
Give me a monastery.
I'm such a angle not seen
Where your sower and preserver,
Where would the Russian peasant did not groan?

No! in my youth, a rebellious and harsh,
It is gratifying memories no;
But all that, my life just an illusion from childhood,
A curse on me lay down irresistible, -
It all begins here, at the edge of my darling!..