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28/07/2018

Who promoted Albinoni?

Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the heartsGeorge Stubbs art

of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






Quotation Annakraj

Read the fullV your quote or community!

Who promoted Albinoni?


Who promoted Albinoni?
independent investigation



Adagio Albinoni is one of the most famous musical compositions. That it certainly sounds when a man escorted to the last path. It is this that makes the heart of listeners shrink and cast thoughts about the eternal. It was the first composition that anticipated the revival of the composer's glory.

 



It is impossible even to say that Jazzotto "reconstructed" or "restored" this work, only one word is suitable here - "composed". Yes, he practically composed the most famous Adagio again. It seemed to him that this music is a typical church warehouse, so he, without thinking twice, added an organ to the work. Well, does not it look ironic that this very product of the fifties of this century led to the revival of the glory of Albinoni? Now at concerts you can hear his sonatas, symphonies, excerpts from operas ...
And only now the musicologists write enthusiastic articles about Albinoni, mention that "some of the stylistic features of the classical symphony" are anticipated in his works. Previously, very few people noticed this.

A similar story (true, over time it became much more famous, it can be found in almost every biography of the composer) happened with Johann Sebastian Bach. The composer who received the largest number of votes from the Cultureciosque.com website in the vote "The Best Millennial Composer" did not die in oblivion, but .... Only in Mendelssohn's time, Bach's music got a new life. And Bach's glory of the present scale is the merit of the twentieth century.
There are a lot of examples. I could continue, but I write all this not for the simple amusement of the venerable public. I'm just asking myself - how much does the perception of music depend on the author's original "unwinding"? And I come to the conclusion that in the classics much resembles the situation that prevails in modern pop music. People are very cautious about unknown names and are ready to love everything indiscriminately, when this name is already recognized all around. So in the classics some composers have remained in history as a tribute to a peculiar fashion, and some have been undeservedly forgotten so far. Only time, a long time again puts everything in its place. And if Bach stayed in the hearts of listeners around the world, then it was not for nothing that he was "promoted" in many ways due to randomnesses through the century after his death.

P.S .: And, of course, now do not forget the next time you hear Albinoni's famous melody, show your outstanding musical knowledge with the following phrase: "Oh, yes, the inimitable Adagio Giacotto!"

Andrei Rubtsov. Oboist@chat.ru ©

A source






painting Reproductions art

26/07/2018

About the sweet little girl

Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is half-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
Quote of Ada_Peters

Read the fullV your quote or community!

About the sweet little girl

Pushkin's sermons
About the sweet little girl



 Simon Soloveichik
 
Let's read Pushkin. Two or three of his lines, even accidentally snatched, can create a good mood for the whole day:

Forgive the light of day,
Forgive the heavens a veil,
A dumb night is haze, sweet day,
Familiar hills, creepy deserted voice,
The silence of the mysterious forest,
And all ... Forgive me one last time.

Everything is alive for Pushkin, everything moves and acts: the sun is a shining star, it is shining; night is mute; the dawn, that is, the dawn, is sweet; hills - their own, familiar; the stream flows, murmurs in silence - the poet hears the voice of the stream in the silence of the forest, as in the desert ... And the forest is silent, and this very silence is mysterious. There is nothing lifeless, indifferent in nature, everything is mine, everything is yours, everything is full of movement and joy.

And the greatest joy is dawn, sunrise, sweet day.

Have you ever seen the solemn sunrise, watched it, died down at the appearance of the smallest edge of the sun? And now it is expanding, now it is hHenri de Toulouse-Lautrec art

alf-way, but everything has risen - the light of the day!

The most deaf to music, the most stale person at this sweet hour of the day-house feels like a believing person in the church, he is ready to pray, he rises in his soul, seeing this triumph of light over darkness.

So after all, our whole life, every minute is the struggle of light and darkness. A man is happy if he has always light feelings in his soul, if a sweet little girl fills him with joy every day, if he wakes up and rises with joy, with light, if he lives lightly and brings light to people. He is unhappy, who does not know this light, who is always sullen, dark with soul, suspicious and angry.

Evil seems as if he is just, as if he is angry righteous, as if there is always something to be angry with. But in fact he was just angry, he was not captured by the sweet hour of the day, the light did not penetrate into his soul - and he lives like an extinct lantern. No, not just extinct, but one that does not exist in the physical world: a lantern spreading darkness, killing, destroying light.

How to learn to live with the dawn? It does not mean to rise before everyone else and do not necessarily see the sunrise every day. But when you wake up, you can think of the sun that has risen or will soon rise, you can think about the light that the earth is full of, and about the light that's in your soul.

 He is, this light of the day-tree, he is in every soul, only it is necessary to see, to feel this light: he bears in himself forces. After all, all living things on Earth are therefore alive, that every day the sweet hour of the day comes.


.

A series of messages "Pushkin's sermons Simon Soloveichik":
Part 1 - Pushkin's sermons ~~ Simon Soloveychik Part 2 - About Grace ... Part 25 - About the Duty of Love Part 26 - About Freedom in Chains Part 27 - About the sweet little girl
painting Reproductions

25/07/2018

It's snowing

Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow Jean-Léon Gérôme paintings for sale

is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
Quote of the message by Rezeda Khamzovna

Read the fullV your quote or community!

It's snowing


 It's snowing.
 
The snow is coming, the snow is coming.
To white asterisks in a snowstorm
Geranium flowers are drawn
For the window binding.

The snow is on, and everyone is confused,
It all goes into flight,
Black staircase steps,
Crossroads turn.

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patchwork patch
The sky comes down to the ground.

Like with the look of an eccentric,
From the top landing,
Creep, playing hide and seek,
The sky is coming off the attic.

Because life does not wait.
Do not look back and Christmas-tide.
Only a brief interval,
Look, there's a new year there.



The snow is coming, thick and thick.
Keep in step with him, stop those,
At the same pace, with the laziness of that
Or with the same speed,

Maybe time passes?
Maybe for the year year
Follow as the snow goes,
Or as words in a poem?

The snow is coming, the snow is coming,
The snow is coming, and all are in turmoil:
A pedestrian,
Surprised plant,
Crossroads turn.

Boris Pasternak



Valentina1
painting Reproductions