I'm lonely, and now - as always.
But the sunset poured a gorgeous flame
And it melts in the Evening Star
Shaking through, as semiprecious stones.
And I am happy sad fate,
And there is joy in the sweet consciousness,
What am I alone in silent contemplation,
With all alien to me and say - with you.
Light
No voids, no darkness, we are not given:
There is light everywhere, eternal and impersonal ...
That midnight. Gloom. Silence of the basilica,
You should look: there is not quite dark
In the bottomless, black arch above you,
There on the wall there is a narrow window,
Far away, barely visible, blind,
Shimmering in a secret temple
Night after night eleven centuries ...
And around you? Do you feel whether these
Crosses on the slippery stone floors,
The coffins of the saints, pochiyuschih under a bushel,
And the terrible silence of those places
Unspoken performed a miracle
Where black altar cross
Erected their heavy arms,
Where is the mystery of filial crucifix
Himself God the Father invisibly guards?
There is some light, that darkness does not shatter.
1927
Angel
In the evening hours, the steppe peaceful
When the sunset over it shone,
Among the heavens, the paths of air,
Evening angel flying.
He saw the twilight of sunset, --
Already turned blue in the distance east --
And suddenly he heard a vague
In rzhah baby voice.
He walked on, picking the ears,
Weave a wreath and sang in the silence,
And there were in the song sounds of paradise --
Innocent, ethereal soul.
"Bless his younger brother, --
Lord said. - Bless
Babe tiihy sunset
On the way, the truth and love! "
And the angel bright smile
Child quietly blessed
And at sunset radial-fragile
I climbed in the glow of tender krill.
And, like the wings of gold,
Dawn blazed in the sky,
And long eyes young
Watched her in silence!
1891
Fyodor Tyutchev
OUR CENTURY
Not flesh and the spirit was corrupt in our days
And a man desperately longs ...
He rushes to the light from the shadows of the night
And, who found the light, grumbling and rebellion.
Unbelief palim and desiccated,
Today the unbearable, he makes ...
And he is aware of its destruction,
And craves faith ... but does not ask about it ...
Do not tell vvek, with prayers and tears,
No matter how grieved before the closed door:
"Let me in! - I believe my God!
Come help my unbelief! .. "
1851
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Сообщение от Wladzislaw
We are on the mountain all bourgeois
World in Flames blow up,
World fire in the blood --
God bless!
|
Alex Pleshcheev
There are days: neither anger nor love,
No thirst cases, nor to a genuine desire
--
Nothing I do not care about the blood;
And my heart is asleep, and the mind in a daze.
I remain deaf to the calls of life;
So cold gaze, so
dispassionately
For all that once my spirit
Troubled and tormented hourly.
And weasel woman in me
In those days, the answer is not even;
At idle, the infamous dream
Mental energy hour after hour passes.
I'm afraid, afraid for myself;
Afraid that the heart does not cooled,
Not to lose the sense of I
While the fire in the blood and body strength. Years
I'm still not old ...
Oh God, everyone who thirsts for redemption,
Forbid, that the ashes of the heart fever
Covered with deadly doubt!
Fyodor Tyutchev
Daybreak
Not for the first time screaming cock;
He cried briskly, cheerfully, boldly;
Oh month of the sky dimmed
Jet in the Bosporus zaalela.
Another silent bell
And too rosy dawn of the east;
The night was endless,
And soon bright day will come.
Get up the same, Russia! Oh close to an hour!
Stand up for the sake of Christ's life!
I do not time eh, crossing,
Strike the bell in Constantinople?
Razdan, blagovestny ringing,
And the whole East was filled with them!
Your calls, and he wakes up --
Get up, take courage, he fought!
In the armor of faith breasts dress,
And with God, the giant sovereign! ..
On Russia, the upcoming big day
Ecumenical day and Orthodox!
November 1849
Labor in vain - no, they did not repent --
More liberal, so they went,
Civilization - for them fetish
But it is not available to them the idea.
As to it not to rot, gentlemen,
You do not gain recognition from Europe:
In her eyes you will always
Not a servant of Education, and slaves.
May 1867
***
Terrible dream they are too heavy upon us;
Horrible, ugly dream:
In the blood-to-toe, we are fighting with the dead,
Risen new funeral.
Eighth much last month, these battles
Heroic ardor, betrayal and lies,
Den of robbers in the house of prayer,
Crucifix in one hand and a knife.
And the whole world, as intoxicated lie
All kinds of evil, all the tricks of evil! ..
No, never so boldly the truth of God
The human falsehood to fight not call! ..
And the cry of sympathy for the blind,
World cry for violent struggle,
Depravity of mind and the distortion of words --
All rose and all the faces you
On the native land! a militia
The world has not seen in the initial days ...
Great to know about Russia, your value!
Be brave, stand, be strong and conquer!
Beginning in August 1863