Author of quotes: Georgy Vladimirovich Ivanov

Above the pink sea rose the moon
In the ice was green wine bottle
And languidly swirled couples
Under the plaintive roar of the ukulele.
- Listen to me. About how long ago that was,
The same sea and the same wine.
I think if the music is the same
Listen, listen, - I think even.
No, you are wrong, dear friend.
We lived on another planet
And too tired and too old
For this waltz, and this guitar.

The soul callous. And every day cherstva.
- I die. Give me your hand. There is no answer.
I listened to the sound of branches
Love the play of shadows and light...
Yes, I'm still alive. But that to me is
When I no longer have the power
To join in creating one
Beautiful scattered pieces.

Go and think of different,
Weave for yourself a coffin wreath
And in this world ugly
Comely lonely.
But suddenly I hear: the war, the idea
The last battle of the twentieth century.
And remember, turning cold,
I'm not the man
And cramp idiot
Nature is created in vain -
"Urra!" from the mouth of a patriot,
"Down!" from the throats of rebel.

Well, there is no King.
Well, that is not Russia.
Well, there is no God.
Only the yellow dawn,
Only icy stars
Only millions of years.
Good - that nobody,
Well - there is nothing,
So black and so is dead,
That the dead can not be
And black does not happen,
That no one can help us
And do not need help.

Fading barely touched
The world is sad and beautiful,
The sails float and sink
Voices call and off.
Like a star - lantern shakes.
Without a trace - into the fog of separation.
Forever? - not responding
Only hands -
Closer to the snow, to white foam,
Closer to the stars, closer to home...
... And growing night shade,
And slide night shade
Face already someone else's.

Easy the month will flash on the crosses of forgotten graves,
Languid beam will illuminate the destruction of dreary pile,
Warm wind sighs: I grass and cloud was,
Human heart I ever will.
You're in love, you're sad, you're languishing in the cool of the night,
You're friend's name is, you call her Irina,
But there will be time, and over our curly land
Fly and take a look, and these fields don't recognize.
And love - the seven-colored rainbow it will be,
The cuckoo, Il stone Il oak branch
And other lovers will stand at the window,
And others, in excruciating tenderness, closer lips.
Warm wind sighs, the trees rustle by the stream,
Easy SERP is reflected in the mirror of the Northern night
And, as the chasuble of the Lord, I kiss the dress of the region,
And knees, and lips, and those green eyes.

I can't sleep. To light a candle?
Yes, but no matches.
The whole world is silent and I am silent,
Look at the moonlight.
And think: how many eyes
In the same silence,
In the same calm, bright hour
Looking to the moon.
How boring it must be to sail
Head over to we,
Someone else's window silvering
And to see so many eyes.
Hundred years, a hundred years ago,
And the world is all one
Dogs bark, Yes you look
Dreamers of the window.

I say - you won the game!
But still. I'm not playing anymore.
For example, as a poet I die,
But as a man I was dying.

As all colorless, all tasteless,
Dead inside, funny outside
Me as unbearably sad
As sickening boring me...
Yawning myself from this topic
Changing it on the go.
- See how lush chrysanthemums
In the burnt autumn garden
Like Lermontov's Demon
Sad in the orange hell
Like recalls Vrubel
Scraps creative dream
And Royal is on the wane
Purple music wave.

Tight thin ice puddle,
Like ice pure blue.
Not shining already, not spinning
Exhausted foliage.
In the heart there's no grief, no joy,
But peace in it either:
How to forget about spring sweets
The radiance of the past?..

Alexander Sergeyevich, I'm bored.
With you to sit with you used to drink tea.
You would say, I would, open-mouthed,
Listened, Yes listened.
To me you are dearer to me you are more expensive.
Alexander Sergeyevich, you had too
Awash with grief, angry, despise,
You had too difficult to die.

The night, like Sugar, like hell hot.
Smoky dawn. Blazing candle.
Here drew on notebook sheet
I Razmacima in black wreath
Legs and tail thin thread...
"In my death no one is to blame".

"The poor people" - an example of tautology,
Whom is it said? Maybe me.

Shh... This life goes,
All the love and ruining everything.
Do you hear? It takes the night
In eternity you a star.