Author of quotes: Rasul Gamzatov. Page 4

Pray to be - and I scribbled poems,
To fast would - and I was drinking wine.
Forgive me Allah for all my sins,
Sin for long anyway.

A lie is a lie and the truth is the truth. They can be neither big nor small. There is life and there is death. When death no life, and Vice versa, until a glimmer of life, death has not come yet. They can't coexist. One excludes the other. And falsehood with truth. A lie is a disgrace, dirt, trash. Truth is beauty, white, clear sky. A lie is cowardice, the truth courage. Is either that, or that, and the middle can not be here.

Words like rain: once - great grace, second time okay, third time is tolerable, the fourth time disaster and attack.

Some say no because in my head crowding an important idea, but because scratched the tip of the tongue.

I came here and he did not believe.
Here is the class where I studied the first year.
Now solved, now open the door.
Capture the spirit and the heart will fall.
And the barefoot boy, my friend,
Getting up from the bench, which stood in that year,
Forward, towards me, gray.
And this meeting, I'm afraid and waiting.

We quieter water below the grass,
We go, and go you!

You'll forget about me, maybe
Us about you are not destined to forget!

He was waiting for: spring will come
And the snow will melt.
Came, it went,
And he doesn't know.

You people are fussy and noisy
We laugh over you from the wall.

It to her, she to him,
The lovers sought.
Only here, having descended into darkness,
They have joined.

Here the relief you'll find
Sorrows and afflictions,
You're a good guest in the house include -
Leave a good friend.

Scholar shakes his head,
The poet is sad, the writer regrets,
The Caspian sea from shore features
With years of retreats and shallower.
I think that's crap
The old Caspian sea shoal can not.
The process of human Melania shower
I'm much more worried.

There are three coveted song of the people,
And human grief and joy.
One of the songs of all the other lighter -
It composes the mother over the cradle.
The second is also a song mothers.
Hand stroking the cheek of the ice,
It is sung over the grave of the sons of...
And the third song - songs of the rest.

If faithful horse, injuring his leg
Suddenly he tripped, and then again,
Don't blame him, blame the road
And the horse did not hurry to change.