The gentle, bright and melodious lyrics of Sergei Yesenin cannot be imagined without the theme of love. In different periods of his life and work, the poet feels and experiences this beautiful, sublime and at the same time bitter feeling in a peculiar way.
Once at that gate over there
I was sixteen years old
And a girl in a white cape
She told me kindly: “No!”
Far away, they were cute.
That image in me has not faded away ...
We all loved during these years,
But they didn't love us enough.
Having gone through many difficult trials, Yesenin's poetry comes to life, throws off despondency, gains energy, faith in a new life. The poet has a great desire to part with the "bad fame", to leave the "unlucky life" forever. But he lacks the will.
I would forever forget taverns
And I would give up writing poetry,
Just to gently touch the hand
And your hair color in autumn.
I would follow you forever
At least in their own, even in others they gave ...
In the poem “Letter to a Woman”, Sergei Alexandrovich confesses to his beloved, asks for forgiveness for involuntarily inflicted insults. He was too emotional and ardent, he could not save love and happiness, but, after parting, he retained respect and affection for his former lover, gratitude for the years he had lived. He blesses the once beloved woman for happiness, albeit without him.
Live like this
How the star guides you
Under the tabernacle of the renewed canopy.
Only A. S. Pushkin with his confession “I loved you” was capable of such a selfless feeling. Yesenin did not always experience joy and peace in love. More often it is a struggle, confrontation and assertion of personalities. Calm and serene love is an unattainable and desirable bliss for the poet.
Without looking at her wrists
And from her shoulders flowing silk,
I was looking for happiness in this woman,
And accidentally found death.
I did not know that love is an infection,
I didn't know that love is a plague.
Came up with a slitted eye
The bully went crazy.
Yesenin's cycle of poems 1921-1922. "Moscow Tavern" is marked by the seal of the painful inner state of the author, who was then experiencing a severe spiritual crisis, which was the result of the poet's split, who had not yet been able to understand the nature and content of the new era. This confusion, depressed state, pessimistic thoughts then left a tragic imprint on the poet's love lyrics. Here are the characteristic lines of one of the poems of this cycle:
Sing, sing! On the damn guitar
My fingers dance in a semicircle.
Would choke in this frenzy,
My last, only friend.
Don't look at her wrists
And flowing silk from her shoulders.
I was looking for happiness in this woman,
And accidentally found death.
I did not know that love is an infection,
I didn't know that love is a plague.
Came up with a slitted eye
The hooligan was driven insane.
Sing, my friend. call me again
Our former violent early.
Let her kiss another
Young beautiful bastard...
By the beginning of 1923, Yesenin's desire to get out of the crisis state in which he found himself becomes noticeable. Gradually, he finds more and more solid ground, a deeper awareness of Soviet reality, begins to feel not adopted, but a native son of Soviet Russia. This was most strongly reflected not only in the political, but also in the love lyrics of the poet.
It is to 1923 that his poems belong, in which he first writes about real, deep love, pure, bright and truly human:
A blue fire swept
Forgotten relatives gave.
For the first time I sang about love,
For the first time I refuse to scandal.
I was all - like a neglected garden,
Was on women and greedy potion,
Enjoyed drinking and dancing
And lose your life without looking back.
It is impossible not to pay attention to the line: "For the first time I sang about love." After all, Yesenin wrote about love in the Moscow Tavern, which means that the poet himself did not recognize true love, which he wrote about in that gloomy cycle of poems. Unlike the poems of that period, Yesenin creates a whole cycle of lyrical works in which the bright joy of feeling love, its purity, human warmth endlessly attracts.
What to desire under the burden of life,
Cursing your inheritance and home?
I would like to have a good
See the girl under the window.
So that with cornflower blue eyes
Only for me - Not for anyone -
And with new words and feelings
Calms the heart and chest
Yesenin writes in the poem "Leaves are falling, leaves are falling ...", and we see a striking difference between this poem and those that the poet created not so long ago in a mood of decline, indifference and despair.
New poems, born of a new mood, the poet himself emphatically separates from the previous ones. In the poem "Let you be drunk by others ..." (1923), he writes:
My heart never lies
I can jump fearlessly
That I say goodbye to hooliganism.
It's time to part with the mischievous
And relentless courage.
Another heart has already drunk,
Sobering blood.
Now I put up with a lot
Bel of compulsion, without loss.
Russia seems different to me,
Others - cemeteries and huts.
This is one of many examples of how Yesenin's love lyrics invariably reflected his civic moods. At this time (1923-1925), one persistent motive appears in his works, to which he repeatedly returns: the poet warns himself and others from hasty conclusions about the nature of his feelings, he judges true love more strictly, which should not be confused with random impulses. :
Don't call this ardor fate
Frivolous quick-tempered connection, -
How by chance I met you
I smile and calmly disperse.
Yes, and you will go your own way
Spread the gloomy days
Just don't touch the unkissed
Just don’t beckon those who didn’t burn.
Speaking of chance encounters that do not bring true happiness and joy, the poet emphasizes the importance of true pure love:
I don't love you dear
You're just an echo, just a shadow.
I dream of another in your face,
whose head is a dove,
Don't let her look meek
And it looks cold
But she has a stately gait
Shake my soul to the core
Here's one you can hardly fog up,
And if you don't want to go, you can go
Well, you don't even lie to your heart
Weasel-filled lies.
Contrasting true love with frivolous chance meetings, Yesenin speaks of that terrible emptiness of the heart that over the years occurs in a person who has spent his feelings without looking back. As a retribution, the impossibility to return what was lost, to know love in all its depth and all-encompassing power, appears to him:
I'm sad to look at you
What a pain, what a pity!
Know only willow copper
We stayed with you in September.
Someone else's lips smashed
Your warmth and awe of the body.
Like it's raining
From the soul, a little dead.
Well! I am not afraid of him.
Another joy opened up to me.
'Cause there's nothing left
As soon as yellow decay and dampness.
After all, I did not save myself
For a quiet life, for smiles.
So few roads traveled
So many mistakes have been made.
Funny life, funny ravlad,
So it was and so it will be after.
Like a graveyard, a garden is dotted
Gnawed bones on the shore.
We will also bloom
And let's make noise like guests of the garden ...
If there are no flowers in the middle of winter,
So there is no need to worry about them.
But Yesenin did not dwell on the motives of lost youth and mournful regrets about the past. As the spiritual revival of the poet came, his lyrics acquired a different sound, an optimistic coloring.
An unsurpassed example of Yesenin's love lyrics is the Persian Motives cycle. These poems were written by Yesenin during his stay in Baku, where he always felt good and wrote a lot. In general, Yesenin's repeated trips to the Caucasus had a very beneficial effect on his work, here he found himself at least temporarily cut off from an unhealthy environment.
My former wound subsided -
Drunk delirium does not gnaw at my heart.
Blue colors of Tehran
I treat them today in a teahouse
These words open "Persian motifs". The poems of this cycle may suggest that they were written by the poet during his stay in Persia. Indeed, Yesenin was going to visit this country. In 1924 - 1925. he reported in letters to G. Benislavskaya: "I will need 1,000 rubles for a trip to Persia or Constantinople"; "I'm sitting in Tiflis. I'm waiting for money from Baku and I'll go to Tehran. The first attempt to cross Tavria failed." "I'll live in Tehran for a while, and then I'll go to Batum or Baku." Yesenin explained why he was drawn to the East: “Understand that I am going to study. I even want to go to Shiraz and I think I will definitely go. All the best Persian lyrics were born there. And it’s not for nothing that Muslims say: if he doesn’t sing so he is not from Shushu, if he does not write, then he is not from Shiraz." Yesenin never visited Persia. In a telegram sent from Tiflis in 1925, he reported: "Persia is burned out." But he made quite long trips to the Caucasus. Here he got acquainted with the work of the greatest poets of the East - Firdousi (934 - 1020), Omar Khayyam (1040 - 1123), Saadi (1184 - 1291). Yesenin repeatedly mentions their names in "Persian Motifs". The lyrics of these ports always contain philosophical thoughts. It is imbued with a sense of love for life. It is characterized by an optimistic perception of the world. The favorite theme of these illustrious lyricists is the theme of love, which is always associated with a full-blooded sense of life. In their poems, the feeling of love is warmed by the feeling of friendship for a woman, this is love without fatal passions, incinerating the soul, it is always a bright and natural feeling,
Here sounded a sincere feeling of the renewed heart of the author. The structure of the verses is melodious and melodic. Yesenin does not imitate either Saadi or Firdousi... The poet creates poems according to traditional canons. The East itself breathes and speaks through Yesenin.
I asked the money changer today
What gives a ruble for half a fog,
How to tell me for the lovely Lala
In Persian gentle "I love"?
I asked the money changer today
Lighter than the wind, quieter than the Van jets,
How to call me for the beautiful Lala
Affectionate word "kiss"?
But here, too, the poet remains a singer of Russia, a patriot of his homeland, which from a distance seems to him even nicer and more beautiful in his discreet attire.
Talyanka rings in my soul,
In the moonlight, I hear a dog barking.
Don't you want, Persian,
See the distant blue edge?
The author of "Persian Motives" is convinced of the fragility of serene happiness away from his native land. And distant Russia becomes the main heroine of the cycle: "No matter how beautiful Shiraz is, it is no better than the expanses of Ryazan."
Probably, no writer portrays the East as romantic and mysterious as Sergei Yesenin. One has only to read his "Persian Motifs" to be convinced of this. What epithets the author does not use! The "blue and cheerful country" attracts the poet with pictures of moonlit nights, where "moth swarms of stars circle" and "cold gold of the moon" shines, "the glass haze of Bukhara" and "the blue homeland of Firdousi" beckon. Probably, the originality of Yesenin's poetry lies in the fact that he is able to perceive the beauty of foreign lands as sharply as his own homeland.
You don't have to ask the poet about how "the blue flowers of Tehran" he treated "a former wound ... in a teahouse" - he was not in Tehran. No need to try to learn from him something detailed about the "blue homeland of Firdusi", about, for example, what reason the poet had to hope that Persia could not forget about him - about the "affectionate Urus". And "Shagane, you are mine, Shagane" is not from Shiraz at all. And not a "Persian", but a young Armenian teacher from Batumi (later honored teacher Shagandukht Nersesovna Talyan), whose passion caused the appearance of a collective image of a woman of the East, captivating lines about her. In the flight of love and inspiration, the poet is above earthly boundaries and differences, who prays to whom, who is of what blood. "Persian motifs" were created in the neighborhood of Persia, by association, in the traditions of Eastern lyrics, rich in allegory, in the aesthetic manner of Persian poetry. Of course, there are not so many direct coincidences with her ideas and poetics in the cycle. But in it - a whole scattering of the finest observations from the life, customs, melodies of the East. Where are they from? The question is not idle, given that Yesenin's trip to Transcaucasia was predominantly urban and seaside. The poet was favored by the local elites, the press, admirers of his talent, mainly from, as they say today, the "Russian-speaking population." He did not have much room to comprehend the intricacies of national life. (No wonder there was a request from above to the poet's companions - to create for him the "illusion of Persia"). Then where did his well-aimed strokes about the Muslim East come from? But just from here - from his trip to Tashkent, where his long-standing interest in Asia, in oriental national poetics, was largely inspired by the circumstances in which he found himself there.
The cycle "Persian motives" is an unsurpassed example of Yesenin's love lyrics.
Sergei Yesenin is one of the most famous Russian poets of the Silver Age, and strangely one of the most misunderstood. It is customary to love him for the tavern cycle, but many forget that Yesenin was capable of much more. The same Yesenin's poems about love can be painted with rural color, and urban longing, and oriental exoticism, but they remain the same poignant.
Having won the first popularity with his "village" poems about nature and quiet rural life, later the poet embarked on the most daring experiments. He sang of social change and the frenzy of night drinking, admired technological progress and foresaw totalitarian nightmares. But all this time he did not forget one of the main, eternal themes of poetry - love.
Yesenin himself was not only a theorist of love. He was married three times - to actress Zinaida Reich, to ballerina Isadora Duncan and to Sofya Tolstaya, Leo Tolstoy's granddaughter. In addition, he had many novels on the side, very different. Among his loves were platonic ones, and children were born from other novels. And the poet gave himself completely to each of his feelings, in return receiving an influx of inspiration from him. Yes, Yesenin understood love!
His love lyrics are surprisingly different from other poems. In other works of Sergei Yesenin, one can clearly hear his era - the beginning of the 20th century, when the foal is replaced by the "iron cavalry", menacing shadows rise over the world, and desperate night Moscow takes off its tavern days. These verses are clearly tied to their time. But Yesenin's love lyrics have been cleared of reference to the era. It is beyond centuries and epochs, it is eternal. Such poems were timely during the life of the poet, and now, almost a century later.
Reading Yesenin's poems about love, you always feel his nature. The poet is honest, acknowledging things that seem to be not customary to say out loud, and this makes his poems convincing.
The most famous love poems
Sergei Yesenin rarely bothered to give separate titles to poems. Therefore, we name most of them by the first line. “You don’t love me, don’t feel sorry for me”, “Goodbye, my friend, goodbye”, “A blue fire swept up ...” and so on. For some verses, it is even possible to establish to whom they were dedicated.
Much more often in Yesenin's love poems, love is unhappy. It is either past, or unanswered, or hopeless due to external reasons. Even the divided feeling that Yesenin writes about bears the imprint of past suffering. “Honey, let's sit next to me”, “Flowers tell me goodbye”, many other verses speak of separation, which has happened or future, inevitable.
The lyrical hero of the poet himself not only suffers from unhappy love, but also causes suffering himself. He can openly admit that he does not love the one who loves him. He can do wrong and admit it to himself - and the reader.
Separately stands in the work of the poet "Persian cycle". Although he seems noticeably happier, southern hot, it takes a deeper reading to realize that Persian moments of happiness are fleeting, and all the characters know it. However, this ephemeral happiness is also fully lived out and overwhelms both the lyrical hero and the reader. “They live only once on earth,” the poet suggests to his companion.
Even when his hero - a hooligan and a rake - seems to be ready to change and "renounce scandal" for the sake of love, it is not particularly possible to believe him. You understand: this hero is prone to impulse, to emotional big words, to deceit, in which he himself believes. But I want, how I want, that, having sung about love for the first time, the hero would not throw this note!
Much more honestly, his voice sounds in the cynical "Sing, sing ...". Realizing the perniciousness of fatal passion, the burnt-out character still gives himself up to love for the one that “driven the bully crazy.” And this duality makes Yesenin's hero much more alive than in the stereotyped verses of less gifted authors.
Of course, Yesenin is not limited to one love lyrics. He has both the dreary anguish of "Moscow Tavern", and the epic "Pantocrator", and the allegorical mysticism of "The Black Man", and poignant village poetry. If we calculate what place the theme of love occupies in Yesenin's work, then it will turn out to be surprisingly small. But poetry about love is what probably touches Sergei Yesenin the most. Probably because Yesenin did not replicate love poems, but wrote from the heart and dedicated to specific people.
On our page you can read a complete selection of Yesenin's poems about love, selected especially for you.
Sergei Yesenin wrote a lot about love. About love for the native land, nature, but the main theme of the poems, of course, is the feeling for a woman. Most often, the poet uses sad, melodic intonations in them, and not by chance, because in life the author never recognized simple family happiness.
- "I remember, my love, I remember". The poet's poem is saturated with longing and sadness for those times when he was in love with the actress Miklashevskaya. The girl did not take Sergei seriously, despite his advances. Nevertheless, she made a huge impression on him and remained in the heart of romance for a long time. And despite the fact that Yesenin is already in a relationship with another, he still dreams of that sweet lady with whom he once spent all his days and nights ... Read the text of the verse ...
- "Looks like it's been that way forever." A rather sad poem, in its meaning it is similar to parting with a loved one. It is mentioned from the wedding and thirty years of life ... you can try to assume that it was written before marrying Sophia Tolstaya. Perhaps the poet felt the approach of an imminent death, and with this message he wanted to say goodbye to his last love. Read the text of the verse...
- "Honey, let's sit down." Calm, measured and honest - this is how the relationship seemed to the poet, although he himself often turned them into a drunken frenzy and a cruel hell of jealousy and suspicion. But everything, as it seemed to him, what his heart needed, he found in a beautiful actress - Augusta Miklashevskaya. And yet this romance was not destined to last forever. Before meeting with the girl, Sergei Yesenin had already resigned himself to his fate as a “lonely rake”, and did not dream of more. With the advent of Augusta, the hope for a bright and happy future also came ... But alas, these were just dreams. Read the text of the verse...
- "You don't love me, you don't pity me..." The poet is aware of his isolation from the world, here the motive of loneliness can be traced. The poem was written not long before the death of the author and is based on a kind of introspection, summing up. In recent months, Sergei was especially lonely: he drank, beat and insulted his wife, left home. His only companions-listeners were girls of easy virtue, one of the meetings with which is described in this poem. The poet writes that their meeting is accidental, and soon the lady will forget about his existence, will have fun with another. Read the text of the verse ...
- "I'm sad to see you." This poem is also dedicated to Augusta Miklashevskaya and is included in the Love of a Hooligan cycle. He recalls the happy month of August - when they actually met, but already in September they were forced to leave. That is why the poet takes for the first month of autumn - the sunset of life, the approach of death. September follows August, as the cooling of passion follows crazy love. Read the text of the verse...
- "Don't look at me reproachfully." The poem was written when the poet was married to Sophia Tolstaya. The lines show that Sergei did not experience love feelings for the girl, but at the same time she is sweet to him outwardly. The true feelings of the lyrical hero remained in the past, his heart was completely distributed to different women, and nothing else was left. Read the text of the verse...
- “Sing, sing. On the damn guitar." The ambiguous attitude of the poet towards a woman, to whom he is clearly not indifferent, is clearly presented. In the second stanza, we observe admiration, admiration for the beauty of the lady. He is literally in love with her wrists, shoulders, hair ... Then there is a sharp change in the mood of the lyrical hero. The realization comes to him that this, such a beautiful lady, is not worthy of strong feelings at all, the full inner bestowal of the poet. He understands that the girl will not bring him happiness, but will only doom him to death. It is believed that the work is dedicated to Isadora Duncan. Read the text of the verse...
- "What a night, I can't." The poet understands that life did not go at all the way he would like it to, and it’s too late to fix anything. The heroine of the poem, to whom it is dedicated, acts as an unloved and unwanted woman. But the author no longer hopes for happiness, he is pleased with this girl, and what else is needed to while away the last days of his life? After all, Sergei, while writing this poem, was already thinking about his imminent death. Read the text of the verse...
- "Well, kiss me, kiss me". The feeling of imminent death does not leave the poet for a minute. For him, the only goal is to enjoy an ardent passion, he wants to plunge into the pool of love, but it was not there. The girl who was head over heels in love with the poet - Sofya Tolstaya - had a very romantic and modest nature. She dreamed of high feelings, of a happy marriage. As a result, two people who passionately want their own do not get what they want. Read the text of the verse...
- "Get away from the window." The poem is built in the form of a monologue of a young girl who turns to her ardent lover with a request to leave her alone. It can be assumed that the poet is writing here about his fellow villager, with whom he was once unrequitedly in love, Anna Sardanovskaya. The heroine admits that she does not love Sergei and does not want to associate her life with him, completely depriving him of any hope. But, despite everything, the poet carries bright feelings for the girl through his whole short life. Read the text of the verse...
- "Hands of a sweetheart - a pair of swans." This poem was written under the impression of the charm of the Armenian arithmetic teacher Shagane Talyan, whom the poet met in Batum during his trip to the Caucasus. The image of a swan here is associated with a woman of incredible beauty, her harmonious and graceful movements. For Yesenin, Shagane is a sweet lady, faithful, delicate, affectionate, able to calm the anxiety in the soul of a lyrical hero. Read the text of the verse...
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green hair,
girl breast,
O thin birch,
What did you look into the pond?
What is the wind whispering to you?
What is the sound of the sand?
Or do you want to braid-branches
Are you a moon comb?
Reveal, reveal to me the secret
Your tree thoughts
I love sad
Your pre-autumn noise.
And a birch answered me:
O curious friend,
Starry night tonight
Here the shepherd shed tears.
The moon cast shadows
Shone green.
For bare knees
He hugged me.
And so, taking a deep breath,
Said under the sound of branches:
Goodbye my dove
Until the new cranes.
Blue fire swept...
A blue fire swept
Forgotten relatives gave.
I was all - like a neglected garden,
He was greedy for women and potion.
Enjoyed drinking and dancing
And lose your life without looking back.
I would just look at you
To see the eye of a golden-brown whirlpool,
And so that, not loving the past,
You couldn't leave for someone else.
Tread gentle, light camp,
If you knew with a stubborn heart,
How does a bully know how to love,
How can he be humble.
I would forever forget taverns
And I would give up writing poetry.
Just to gently touch the hand
And your hair color in autumn.
I would follow you forever
At least in their own, even in others they gave ...
For the first time I sang about love,
For the first time I refuse to scandal.
Here it is, stupid happiness ...
Here it is, stupid happiness,
With white windows to the garden!
On the pond like a red swan
The sunset floats quietly.
Hello golden calm
With the shadow of a birch in the water!
Rooftop flock
Serves vespers to the star.
Somewhere beyond the garden timidly
Where the viburnum blooms
Tender girl in white
He sings a gentle song.
Spreads blue cassock
From the field of the night chill ...
Silly, sweet happiness
Fresh rosy cheeks!
Weaved out on the lake the scarlet light of dawn...
Weaved out on the lake the scarlet light of dawn.
Capercaillie are crying in the forest with bells.
An oriole is crying somewhere, hiding in a hollow.
Only I don’t cry - my heart is light.
I know that in the evening you will go beyond the ring of roads,
Let's sit in fresh shocks under the neighboring haystack.
I'll kiss you when I'm drunk, I'll crush you like a flower,
There is no gossip to the intoxicated with joy.
You yourself, under the caresses, will throw off the silk of the veil,
I'll take the drunk until the morning into the bushes.
And let the capercaillie cry with bells,
There is a merry melancholy in the alost of the dawn.
Foolish heart, don't beat!
Foolish heart, don't beat!
We are all deceived by happiness
The beggar only asks for participation ...
Foolish heart, don't beat.
Month yellow spell
They pour over the chestnuts into the forest.
Lale leaning on the shalwars,
I will hide under the veil.
Foolish heart, don't beat.
We are all like children sometimes.
Laughing and crying often
Came out to us in the light
Joy and failure.
Foolish heart, don't beat.
I have seen many countries.
Looking for happiness everywhere
Only the desired destiny
I won't search anymore.
Foolish heart, don't beat.
Life hasn't been completely deceiving.
Let's get drunk with new strength.
Heart, at least you fell asleep
Here, on the knees of my dear.
Life hasn't been completely deceiving.
Maybe he will mark us
Rock that flows like an avalanche
And love will answer
The song of the nightingale.
Foolish heart, don't beat.
Blue jacket
Blue eyes...
Blue jacket.
Blue eyes.
I didn't tell any truth.
Sweetheart asked:
Does the blizzard spin?
Light the stove, make the bed.
I replied cute
Today from above
Someone showers white flowers.
Light the stove, make the bed,
My heart is in a blizzard without you.
The day is gone, the line has diminished ...
The day is gone, the line has diminished,
I went back to leaving.
With a flick of a white finger
Secrets of years I cut the water.
In the blue stream of my destiny
Scaling cold foam beats,
And puts the seal of silent captivity
A new crease on a wrinkled lip.
Every day I become a stranger
And to myself, and to whom I ordered life.
Somewhere in a clean field, at the boundary,
I tore my shadow from my body.
She left undressed
Taking my curved shoulders.
Somewhere she's far away now
And gently hugged the other.
Maybe leaning towards him
She completely forgot about me.
And staring into the ghostly darkness,
The folds of the lips and mouth have changed.
But lives by the sound of former years,
What, like an echo, wanders beyond the mountains.
I kiss with blue lips
Black shadow embossed portrait.
Honey, let's sit down...
Honey, let's sit down
Let's look into each other's eyes.
I want under the meek gaze
Listen to the sensual blizzard.
It's autumn gold
This strand of white hair -
Everything appeared as the salvation of the Restless Rake.
I left my land a long time ago
Where meadows and thickets bloom.
In urban and bitter glory
I wanted to live lost.
I wanted the heart to be muffled
I remembered the garden and summer,
Where to the music of frogs
I raised myself as a poet.
It's autumn there now...
Maple and lindens in the windows of the rooms,
Throwing branches with paws,
Looking for those who remember.
They've been gone for a long time.
A month on a simple churchyard
On the crosses it marks with rays,
That we will come to visit them,
That we, having outlived anxiety,
Let's go under these bushes.
All wavy roads
Only joy is poured to the living.
Honey, sit down next to me
Let's look into each other's eyes.
I want under the meek gaze
Listen to the sensual blizzard.
Play, play, talyanochka ...
Come out to meet the outskirts, beauty, the groom.
The heart glows with cornflowers, turquoise burns in it.
I play talyanochka about blue eyes.
Do not dawn in the jets of the lake weaved your pattern,
Your scarf, adorned with embroidery, flashed over the hillside.
Play, play, talyanochka, raspberry furs.
Let the beauty listen to the groom's jokes.
Hands cute - a pair of swans ...
Sweet hands - a pair of swans -
Dive into the gold of my hair.
Everything in this world of people
The song of love is sung and repeated.
I sang and I was once far away
And now I sing about the same thing again
That's why I breathe deeply
Tenderness impregnated word.
If you love the soul to the bottom,
The heart will become a lump of gold.
Only Tehran moon
Will not warm the songs with warmth.
I don't know how to live my life
Whether to burn out in the caresses of sweet Steps Or, in old age, anxiously grieve
About past song courage?
Everything has its own gait:
What is pleasing to the ear, what is to the eye.
If a Persian composes a bad song,
So he is never from Shiraz.
About me and for these songs
Talk like this among people:
He would sing more tenderly and more wonderfully,
Yes, killed a couple of swans.
Blue evening, moonlit evening...
Blue evening, moonlit evening
I used to be handsome and young.
Unstoppable, unique
Everything flew by. away.. past...
The heart has cooled, and the eyes have faded ...
Blue happiness! Lunar nights!
Letter to a woman
Do you remember,
Of course, you remember everything
How I stood
Approaching the wall
You excitedly walked around the room
And they threw something sharp in my face.
You said: It's time for us to part,
What tormented you
My crazy life
That it's time for you to get down to business,
And my destiny -
Roll on, down.
Darling!
You didn't love me.
You did not know that in the host of people
I was like a horse driven in soap
Spurred by a brave rider.
You didn't know that I was in a continuous smoke,
In a life torn apart by a storm
That's why I suffer that I do not understand -
Where the rock of events takes us.
Face to face
Can't see faces.
Big is seen from a distance.
When the sea surface boils -
The ship is in a sorry state.
Earth is a ship!
But suddenly someone
For new life, new glory
In the midst of storms and blizzards
He directed it majestically.
Well, which of us is big on deck
Didn't fall, vomit, or swear?
They are few, with an experienced soul,
Who remained strong in pitching.
Then I, Under the wild noise,
But maturely knowing the work,
Went down into the ship's hold,
To avoid watching human vomit.
That hold was -
Russian kabak.
And I bent over the glass
So that, without suffering for anyone,
destroy yourself
In a frenzy drunk.
Darling!
I tortured you
you had longing
In the eyes of the weary
What am I showing to you
He wasted himself in scandals.
But you didn't know
What's in the smoke
In a life torn apart by a storm
That's why I suffer
What I don't understand
Where the rock of events takes us...
Now the years have passed.
I'm at a different age.
I feel and think differently.
And I say over the festive wine:
Praise and glory to the helmsman!
Today I
In the midst of tender feelings.
I remembered your sad tiredness.
And now
I'm rushing to let you know
What was I
And what happened to me!
Darling!
Nice to say to me:
I avoided falling off the cliff.
Now in the Soviet side
I am the most furious fellow traveler.
I became not who I was then.
I wouldn't torment you
As it was before.
For the banner of liberty
And bright work
Ready to go even to the English Channel.
Forgive me...
I know you are not the one
Do you live
With a serious, intelligent husband;
That you do not need our maeta,
And I myself to you
Not a bit needed.
Live like this
How the star guides you
Under the tabernacle of the renewed canopy.
Greetings,
always remembering you
Your friend Sergei Yesenin.
Well, kiss me, kiss...
Well, kiss me, kiss me
Whether it's blood or pain.
Out of tune with the cold will
Boiling water of heart jets.
overturned mug
Among the merry is not for us.
Understand my friend
On earth they live only once!
Look around with calm eyes
Look: in the dark damp
The moon is like a yellow raven
Circling, hovering above the ground.
Well, kiss me!
So I want.
The song of decay sang to me.
It can be seen that he sensed my death
The one who climbs in the sky.
Withering power!
To die is to die!
Until the end of my dear lips
I would like to kiss.
So that all the time in blue dreams,
Not ashamed and not melting,
In the gentle rustle of bird cherry
It was heard: "I am yours."
And so that the light over a full mug
Not extinguished with light foam -
Drink and sing, my friend:
On earth they live only once!
Flowers say goodbye to me...
Flowers say goodbye to me
Bowing their heads down,
That I will never see
Her face and fatherland.
Beloved, well, well!
Well!
I saw them and I saw the earth
And this deathly trembling
How to accept a new kindness.
And because I realized
All my life, passing by with a smile, -
I say every moment
That everything in the world is repeatable.
It doesn't matter, another one will come,
The sadness of the departed will not swallow,
abandoned and dear
The one who comes will compose a better song.
And, listening to the song in silence,
Beloved with another beloved
Maybe he will remember me
How about a unique flower.
I remember, my love, I remember...
I remember, love, I remember
Shine of your hair.
Not happy and not easy for me
I had to leave you.
I remember autumn nights
Birch rustle of shadows
Let the days be shorter then
The moon shone brighter for us.
I remember you told me:
Blue years will pass
And you will forget, my dear,
With another me forever.
Linden blossom today
Reminded feelings again
How gently then I poured
Flowers on a curly strand.
And the heart, not ready to cool down,
And sadly loving another.
Like a favorite story
On the other hand, he remembers you.
I'm sad to see you...
I'm sad to look at you
What a pain, what a pity!
Know only willow copper
We stayed with you in September.
Someone else's lips smashed
Your warmth and awe of the body.
Like it's raining
From the soul, a little dead.
Well! I am not afraid of him.
Another joy opened up to me.
'Cause there's nothing left
As soon as yellow decay and dampness.
After all, I did not save myself
For a quiet life, for smiles.
So few roads traveled
So many mistakes have been made.
Funny life, funny discord.
So it was and so it will be after.
Like a graveyard, a garden is dotted
Gnawed bones in birches.
This is how we bloom
And let's make noise like guests of the garden ...
If there are no flowers in the middle of winter,
So there is no need to worry about them.
Sergey Yesenin
Poems about love
Ekaterina Markova. "I love another..."
The light is so mysterious
As if for the only
The one in which the same light
And which is not in the world.
S. Yesenin
It is difficult to find poetry in Sergei Yesenin that is not about love. Love is Yesenin's worldview. He came into the world to love, pity and cry over every calf, a broken birch, a village strangled by the steel roads of cities ...
His love for the Earth, which gave birth to each tree, is sensual. Under the sky, hugging the earth, the birch lifts up her skirt... The inclusiveness of an erotic feeling, reaching religiosity... Yesenin is alien to pantheism, he is an Orthodox peasant, only his Christianity is different in the free wind of Ryazan. He exposes his right cheek to a blizzard, a hurricane. Pity is spilled in his work, pity for every dog ...
Yesenin has much fewer poems addressed to a woman. In these verses, Sergei Yesenin, as it were, overdoes his nature. In the village it is not accepted, deeply, historically not accepted, to show one's feelings... From the bride to the wife - the distance is like from heaven to earth.
He could not, for example, like Blok, call Russia his wife, for the peasant ear - this is almost blasphemous in relation to the Motherland ...
Don't look at me reproachfully
I do not hide contempt for you,
But I love your eyes with a veil
And your crafty meekness.
Yes, you seem to me prostrate,
And, perhaps, I'm glad to see
Like a fox pretending to be dead
Catches ravens and crows.
Well, well, catch it, I'm not afraid.
But how would your ardor not go out?
On my chilled soul
Came across these many times.
I don't love you dear
You're just an echo, just a shadow...
Yesenin compares a woman with a cunning fox, a fox is closer and more understandable to him than a woman. Everything is clear in the village, here is the bride girl, her age is short, like early spring. And here is the mother of the family, quickly losing her young features in circular cares about the house. The bride is virginity in the most sacred sense of the word. Mariengof writes in his book: “Zinaida (Reich, mother of Yesenin’s two children. - EAT.) told him that he was her first. And she lied. This - in a peasant way, by dark blood, not by thought - Yesenin could never forgive her. Tragically, doomedly, he couldn’t ... Every time Yesenin recalled Zinaida, a cramp cramped his face, his eyes turned purple, his hands clenched into a fist: “Why did you lie, you reptile!”
In the city, and even the beginning of the twentieth century, and even in a bohemian environment, the bride remains almost for life. Alluring, looking for a groom, but a bride rather from the evil one ...
Yesenin's poetic house is expanded to the universe, where "stars are pouring into the ears ... water is a symbol of purification and baptism in the name of a new day."
Yesenin's muse remembers "the secret of the ancient fathers to wipe themselves with foliage ... the duty of life in the sun", "relation to eternity, as to the parental hearth" - this is the blessing of life for Yesenin. Such is his "worn Liturgy".
Another, alien to his world order, perception, Yesenin's soul does not accept and will not put up with him. His rebellion is in self-destruction, the rebellion is not just against the steel cavalry, this rebellion is against the destroyed universe created by the ancestors ...
Where there are cabbage patches
Sunrise pours red water,
Maple tree small womb
Green udder sucks.
Poems of 1910, written at the age of 15, Yesenin remained so until the grave ... He could not live an adult pragmatic life, according to Yesenin, for the soul - this is a coffin. His curses against women come from great love, from the unattainable Image created in early youth by the imagination of the poet...
Rash, harmonica. Boredom...boredom...
The harmonist pours his fingers in a wave.
Drink with me you lousy bitch
Drink with me.
Loved you, scourged -
Unbearable.
Why are you looking so blue splashes?
Do you want Ali in the face?
In the garden you would be stuffed,
Frighten crows.
Tormented me to the liver
From all sides.
Rash, harmonica. Rash, my frequent.
Drink, otter, drink.
I'd rather be that busty one over there, -
She's stupid...
But here is the end of the poem, -
To your pack of dogs
It's time to forgive.
Darling I'm crying
Sorry Sorry…
In a deeply alien place, where only the accordion is pure, which becomes animated, the poet, seeing the holy female nature, says: “Darling, I am crying…”
If we move back in time and space, we recall the famous scene with Marlon Brando in the movie "Last Tango in Paris", where the hero sends curses already to the coffin of his beloved, but cheating wife...
Yesenin has a scandal - almost always Cry, the same people's Cry, with a capital letter ...
As a child, he experienced his first love (it was Anna Sardanovskaya), like Goethe's Werther - tragically, he got drunk on vinegar essence, but got scared and drank a lot of milk ... Anna is the daughter of relatives of the Konstantinovsky priest who came for the summer. For two summers, the girl was carried away by the poetic Sergey with the candy appearance of Lel, they were already considered a bride and groom, and on the third she grew taller than a peasant boy and fell in love with another ...
During these years it was written:
Weaved out on the lake the scarlet light of dawn.
Capercaillie are crying in the forest with bells.
An oriole is crying somewhere, hiding in a hollow.
Only I don’t cry - my heart is light.
I know that in the evening you will go beyond the ring of roads,
Let's sit in fresh shocks under the neighboring haystack.
I'll kiss you drunk, I'll die like a color,
There is no gossip drunk with joy ...
Love is too painful ... Sergei Yesenin, it seems, decided to drown out the very possibility of falling in love in himself - this pain did not combine with the desire to become a famous poet ...
In Moscow, he met with the unloved, but remarkably sensitive and cultured young lady Anna Izryadnova, a son was born ... Yesenin despised himself for dislike, for some calculation in these relations, which did not fit into his concept of honor ... “My self is a shame of personality. I ran out of steam, lied, and, one can even say with success, buried or sold my soul to the devil - and all for talent. If I catch and have the talent I have outlined, then the meanest and most insignificant person will have it, - I have ... If I am a genius, then along with this I will be a filthy person ... ”he writes to his friend Maria Balzamova. The signature in the letter is "scoundrel Sergei Yesenin."
The soul needed repentance... The city, adorned with half-empty, ridiculed churches, could only give a bohemian environment and revelations in Stray Dog...
With the restlessness of a rod-bear awakened from a beautiful dream of merging with nature, he destroyed other people's lives, the lives of women who loved him. Hasty marriage to Zinaida Reich, whom he left in the end with two children, left in lifelong confusion and bewilderment ... Passion for Isadora Duncan, associated with the exotic nature of relations. At the age of already a world-famous dancer experienced maternal feelings for him ...
Something similar to first love manifested itself to the actress Augusta Miklashevskaya, but she was saved, apparently, by the platonism of Yesenin's love ...
Yesenin's love lyrics are collective, she is dedicated to some other, unmet woman ...
Lydia Kashina, a neighbor's daughter of a moneybag, married with two children, is considered the prototype of Anna Snegina. But the features of Anna Sardanovskaya and others shine through in the poem ... Yesenin did not meet a single woman on earth, his own, like the creator of Ecclesiastes ...
Yesenin's love is from another dimension. This is the mystery of his unheard-of popularity. Until now, vagrants spend the night on his grave and read, misinterpreting: “And deafly, as if from a handout, / When they throw a stone at her in laughter, / The eyes of a dog rolled / Golden stars in the snow ...”
And how many imitators. In huts, in prison cells and just behind the student bench of the Literary Institute ... At the heart there is a tattoo “I don’t regret, I don’t marry, I don’t cry” ... Yesenin is accidental in a galaxy of poets, even the best. He is different, he is the granddaughter of Veles.
And under the weeping memorial services, under the censer canon,
All I fancied was a quiet, uninhibited ringing.
