Verse biography of Yesenin

My dear, you are in my chest. The intended parting promises the meeting in front. Goodbye, my friend, without a hand, without a word, not sad and not the sadness of the eyebrows, - in this life it is not new to die, but also to live, of course, not of News. Ustinova recalls that on December 27 she went into the room to Yesenin, “Sergey Alexandrovich began to complain that there was not even ink in this“ lousy ”hotel and he had to write blood this morning ...

Sergey Alexandrovich went to the table, pulled out the poem from the notebook and put Erlich into the inner pocket of his jacket. Erlich reached out with his hand behind the leaflet, but Yesenin stopped him: “Then you read it, don’t! Erlich read only the day after Yesenin's death. Pressed in the Red Newspaper on the same day, it soon became widely known.

Sings Alexei Pokrovsky. Music: Alexander Vertinsky. What's happened? What happened to me? Every day I am at other knees. Every day I lose my pity, not resigning to the bitterness of betrayal. I always wanted my heart to beat less in the feelings of delicate and simple, what am I looking for in the eyes of these women - easy, false and empty? Hold me, my contempt, I was always marked by you.

In the soul, cold boiling and lilac rustling is blue. In the soul there is a lemon light of sunset, and everything is the same heard through the fog - for freedom in feelings there is reckoning, take the call, Don -Juan! And, calmly accepting the challenge, I see that I am one and that - to honor the blizzard for the blue flowering of May, to call a sensual trembling love. It happened, it happened to me, and since many I had my knees, so that happily happiness smiles, not resigning to the bitterness of betrayal.

Despite the face, you wander from passion, lowering my hands on my shoulders. Young, with sensual grin, I am not gentle and not rude with you. Tell me how much did you caress? How many hands do you remember? How many lips? I know - they went like shadows without touching your fire, many you sat on your knees, and now you are sitting with me. Let your eyes are half-closed and you think about someone else, because I myself do not love you very well, drowning in the far road.

Do not call this ardor fate, a quick -tempered connection is easily thought out, - as I accidentally met with you, smiling, calmly disappeared. Yes, and you will go with your road to spray the joyless days, just do not touch unwitted days, only unegrated by mani. And when you pass with another alley, chatting about love, maybe I will go for a walk, and we will meet you again.

Turning away to the other closer shoulders and leaning down a little, you will say to me quietly: “Good evening! And nothing will disturb the soul, and nothing will be trembling - who loved, he can’t love, who burned out, you won’t set fire to him. Yes, you seem to me spread out, and, perhaps, I am glad to see how the fox pretended to be dead, catches raven and crow. Well, so, catch, I'm not a bite.

Just no matter how your ardor went out? Such a stumbled upon my cooled soul more than once stumbled upon. Not you love you, dear, you are just an echo, just a shadow. In my face, I dream of another, whose eyes are pigeon. Even if she does not look like a meek and, perhaps, look cold, but she stirred my soul to the bottom with a majestic gait. You can hardly)) and if you don’t want to go, but you’ll go, well, and you don’t even in your heart do not lie with a caress lies.

But still, despising you, I will openly open it in embarrassment: if there were no hell and paradise, they would be invented by a person himself. I can't. I can’t sleep. Such a loust. It’s as if the shore in the soul is lost youth. A girlfriend of the cooled years, do not call a game of love, let this moonlight flow to me to the head of the moonlight.

Let him boldly outlined distorted features, because you can’t stop loving, how you could not love. You can only love only once, because you are a stranger to me that linden is in vain beckoning us, immersing our legs in snowdrifts. After all, I know and you know that in this removal lunar, blue on these lindens are not flowers - on these lindens, snow and hoarfrost.

That we have been licked for a long time, you are not me, but I - another, and we both still play inexpensive love. But carefully caress and hug a kiss in the crafty passion, let the heart forever dream of May and the one that I love forever. Or what did you see? Or what did you hear? As if you went out for a walk for a walk. Music: V. You yourself know, you know well - I don’t see you, I have not come to you.

I passed by, my heart is still - I just wanted to look out the window. Snow explosion, thin lemon lunar light. It is pleasant to the heart with quiet pain to remember something from the early years. The snow at the porch is like a sandy sand. Here with the same moon without words, a hat from a cat on the forehead, I was secretly left my father’s firewood.

Again I returned to the edge of the dear. Who remembers me? Who forgot? I stand sadly, like a persecuted wanderer, the old owner of my hut. Silently, I’m coming a new hat, I don’t like the sable of the fur. I remembered my grandfather, I remembered the grandmother, remembered the cemetery loose snow. Everyone calmed down, everyone will be there, as he was not happy in this life - that’s why I am so drawn to people, that’s why I love people so much.That's why I didn’t cry a little bit and, smiling, went out with my soul - this hut on the porch with a dog seems to be seen for the last time.

Again, I see my native outskirts, through a blizzard, a light by the window. We are all homeless people, how many we need. What was given to me, about that. Here I am again at my parental dinner, again I see my old woman. He looks, and the eyes are watery, watery, quietly, silently, as if without torment. He wants to take up the tea cup - the tea cup slides from his hands.

Sweet, kind, old, tender, with sad thoughts you do not be friends, listen - under this harmonica snowy I will tell you about my life. I saw a lot and I wandered a lot, I loved a lot and suffered a lot, and that is why it was loud and drunk that I had not seen anyone better than you. So again, at the bed, I bask, dropped my shoes, a jacket of my section. Again, I came to life and again I hope the same as in childhood, for the best destiny.

And outside the window under the blizzard sobs, in a wild and noisy panicle child, it seems to me - linden, white linden in our garden are showered. And horses, horses! Apparently, the hell brought them to the ground. In the bell -shaped steppe acceleration, the bell laughs to tears. Neither the moon, nor dog barking in the far, aside, in the wasteland. Supported, my life is removable, I have not yet become old.

Sing, a coachman, ahead of this night - you want, I myself will go to you about crafty girlish eyes, about my cheerful youth. Eh, it used to be broken a hat, and lay a horse into the shafts, and you put an armful on the hay, - remember only how they called me. And where the posture came from, and in the midnight silence the talkative Taglian persuaded more than one.

Everything has passed. My hair is stripped. The horse was breathled, our yard is empty. The Taglian's voice lost, having forgotten how to conduct a conversation. But still, the soul did not cooled, the snow and frost are so pleasant to me, because everything that was, the bell laughs to tears. I am always, when I close my eyes, I say: "Only my heart is disturbed, life is a deception, but it sometimes decorates a lie with joys." Turn to face the gray sky, guessing about fate, calm down, mortal, and do not demand the truth of the one that you do not need.

It’s good to think in the bird blizzard so that this life is a path. Let the light friends deceive, let the light friends change. Let them caress me with a delicate word, let the evil tongue are more acute than razor. I have been living on everything for a long time, I am ruthlessly used to everything. These wishes are cold, there is no warmth from star fire.