Author of quotes: Sergey Mitrofanovich Gorodetsky

Our strength triumph!

I have to comprehend
To recognize and to investigate,
Why do we have honey, why do we need copper,
Where the defeat, where victory.

Sorry, captivating the moisture
And pervozdanna fog!
In the transparent wind greater good
To created to life countries.
Spacious peace and mnogozvuchie,
And mnogocwetnye rainbows he
And here's Adam, he charged,
Inventor names.

Admire sometimes, as in China
Boils with shimmer Golden coffee
And suddenly, in the brain arises desires of the sea,
And blood, tormented longing for catastrophe:
To break the violence! To remove savage will
The shamelessness of the evil of buying and selling!
Lashes is not necessary for the flowers of magnolias!
Don't need the sun ocean guardians!

Life unbridled is racing
In calms and storms,
Young happiness shines
And calls to fight.
If your step is slow,
If they can keep that flight
Persistent and corrosive,
You fear horror shall cover.
If W wings spread
The vortices of evil spite,
The sun of happiness and glory
Will fly straight.

... Neva, evil, dumb,
Froze, concealing,
That dirty ice lifting,
Under her roaring tide.
Love it. Mute and loves.
Knows: joy of earth
Nothing more painful not ruining
Than this torture by silence...

Huge silent house
That this world is a prison.
And signs shouting about
That the world is a brothel,
Sells every dream,
And who doesn't sold, that's funny.
Iron factories a silhouette
Screams that will not.
What are these cubes made of stones
Squeezed infuriating lights.

Happened with me with fire and blood,
Dream, and sorrow, and labor.
The one we are chained by love
And under the one cross we go.
One star above us shining,
And woven our way.
One you in the whole world
Can I say: "I'm Sorry!"

Forgive me when I have sinned,
When transgressed before you,
Soothe me when I'm inconsolable,
Warm smile of the young.
About happiness sing, when I am serving
Your magical beauty.
In Paradise spin with me, exulting,
And disasters along in poverty.

All exhausted, tired,
Husband dead cleaned
Was at the window.
High cellar window,
Dirt showered to the glass
Early spring.
Breathe a little spring,
Look at the light in the window:
Feet and home.
And puddles overflowing,
Panting, slipping,
The scarlet border.

Must be the life of the fracture,
Halfway already passed,
All that was, that dreamed
Soedinilis one.
But like the reflection of the wee
At the spring domes of the willows,
Some light, hardly noticeable,
In life the future lies.

Clicked the bird in the bare branches.
And people in dark, cramped cages
In the sun by the window, as the sprouts,
From the vernal stretch of boredom.

A bear on a chain carrier,
She sat on the chain
And head nails
The cursed one: "be Patient!"