Author of quotes: Boris Leonidovich Pasternak. Page 2

Poetry, I swear
You and end up prohibi:
You're not a posture of sudaglass,
You - summer with a place in the third grade,
You're suburbs, not the chorus.
You're stifling as may, Yamskaya,
Shevardino night redoubt
Where the clouds moans emit
And apart for the dissolution of the go.

The sun is setting, and a drunkard
From a distance, with the transparent goal
Across the window-sill stretches
The bread and the glass of brandy.
Here it bumped ugly
In the snow mug chubby
Color currant liqueur,
Village, decayed, were extinguished.

So start. Year two
From the nurse rush into the darkness ringtones
Chirp, they hiss, and the words
Are about the third year.
So you begin to understand.
And the noise started up turbine
Imagining that the mother is not a mother.
You're not yourself, that the home - land.

In reality if everything? A time to walk around?
Better forever sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep
And not to see dreams.

Worlds ruled by pity,
Love inspired
Universe nebivolol
And life new.
The woman in the palm of your hand,
The girl in his hand
Of birth and agony
The beginning of the path.

You're here, we're in the air one.
Your presence as a city
Like quiet Kiev outside the window,
Which in the heat of the rays wrapped,
Who sleeps not opoku,
And sleep borim, but not to compete,
Tears from the neck of the bricks
Like a sweaty silk fleece gate
Where propotev foliage
Taken from just obstacles
Defeated on the pavement
Tired of the poplar crowd.

Went word love, you're right.
I'll come up with a different nickname..
For you I the whole world, all the words
If you want to rename.

Others live on the track
Will pass your way inch by inch,
But the defeat from victory
You yourself must not distinguish.

Otmena evil will be punished
And the relatives of the victims and widows
We Woe obliged to facilitate
Even some new word.
I swear all of them the Russian genius,
That martyrs and heroes
The victory of spiritualizing the
We are an eternal monument to build.

You still remember that dry throat,
When, rattling the bare force of evil,
Meet us bawling and Purley
And fall a step test was?
But the right was a fence,
Which were inferior to any armor.
All embodied the fate of Leningrad.
The wall he stood in front of everyone.

And I tried the friendship swasti
With people from the labour ranks
What did me the honor
Me too, considering the dud.

Easy to Wake up and see the light,
Verbal rubbish from the heart to vytryasli
And live, not clogged in the future.
All of this is no big trick.

I clung once to the poor
Not from the lofty glance,
But because only there
Life went on without pomp and parade.

All I want to come
To the bottom.
In work, in search of the way,
In cardiac troubles.