Much has been said... and good words and bad ones. It seems that not a single poet could get around this feeling. Sometimes a couple of lines are enough to describe love...

Short love poems

You can't confuse real tenderness
Nothing, and she's quiet.
You vainly carefully wrap
I have fur on my shoulders and chest.
And in vain the words are submissive
Talk about first love
How do I know these stubborn
Your unsatisfied glances!
A.Akhmatova

And the wild song of the native land.




...And now what?
A. Akhmatova

He said that I have no rivals.
I am not an earthly woman for him,
And the winter sun is a comforting light
And the wild song of the native land.
When I die, he will not be sad,
Do not shout, distraught: "Rise!"
But suddenly he realizes that it is impossible to live
Without the sun, the body and soul without a song.
...And now what?
S. Yesenin

You, who loved me falsely
Truth - and the truth of lies,
You who loved me - further
Nowhere! - Outside!

You who loved me longer
Time. - Hands swing! -
You don't love me anymore
Truth in five words.
M. Tsvetaeva

Poems of the classics are short

You are a stranger to me and not a stranger,
Native and non-native
Mine and not mine! going to you
Home - I won't say "visit"
And I won't say "home".

Love is like a fiery furnace:
And yet the ring is a big thing,
And yet the altar is a great light.
- God did not bless!
M. Tsvetaeva

The fire of desire burns in the blood,
Your soul is wounded
Kiss me: your kisses
Myrrh and wine are sweeter to me.
Bow down to me with your gentle head,
And may I rest serene,
While the fun day dies
And the night shadow will move.
A.S. Pushkin

I believe: I am loved; for the heart you need to believe.
No, my dear cannot be hypocritical;
Everything is unfeigned in it: desires languid heat,
Shy modesty harit a priceless gift,
Clothes and speeches pleasant negligence
And affectionate names of infantile tenderness.
A.S. Pushkin

Don't wash away love
no quarrel
not a mile.
Thought out
verified,
verified.
Raising solemnly a line-fingered verse,
I swear
I love
unchanging and true!
V. Mayakovsky

GAIN-LIKE

Lightning threw her eyes:
I saw -
different with you.
You are the lowest
you are the meanest ... -
And went
and went
and went cursing.
I'm a scientist, dear,
leave your rumbles,
If lightning didn't kill me -
then thunder to me
oh my god, it's not scary.
V. Mayakovsky

Briefly about the love of the classics

ONE FOR YOU, ONE FOR YOU

One for you, one for you
Love and happiness queen,
You are beautiful, young
All life's best pages!

Neither true friend, neither brother nor mother
They do not know a friend, brother, son,
Only you can understand
Souls obscure twist.

You, you alone, oh my passion,
My love, my queen!
In the darkness of the night your soul
Shines like a distant lightning.
A. Blok

We were together, I remember...
The night was agitated, the violin sang...
You were mine these days
You are getting better every time...

Through the quiet murmur of the jets,
Through the secret of a feminine smile
A kiss was asked to the lips,
The sounds of the violin were asking in the heart ...
A. Blok

Words are sad
words are bitter.
They fly along the wires
lowlands, hillocks.
In sealed envelopes
over the sleepers they knock,
over sleepers, over bumps:
"It's all over. It's all over..."
R. Rozhdestvensky

Poems with meaning are short

We buried our love
The cross was placed on the grave.
"Thank God!" both said...
Only love has risen from the grave,
Nodding reproachfully to us:
- What did you do? I am alive!..
Y. Drunina

In the second half of the twentieth century
Two good people say goodbye -
Leaving a man own wife,
But he doesn't go to war.

Waiting for him on the corner, near the house, another,
She keeps looking at her watch, pacing nervously:
A man leaves his wife
It was easier to go to war!
Y. Drunina

Now do not die of love -
mocking sober era.
Only hemoglobin in the blood falls,
only for no reason a person feels bad.

Now do not die of love -
only the heart something junk at night.
But "ambulance", mom, do not call,
doctors shrug their shoulders helplessly:
"Now don't die of love..."
Y. Drunina

There is no right or wrong in love.
Is this element - guilt?
Like hot lava flow
She flies through the destinies.

There is no right or wrong in love,
No one can be blamed here.
Pity the madman who lava
I would try to stop...
Y. Drunina

Love lyrics are the basis of the work of many Russian poets. And this is not surprising, because love itself is multifaceted. It can give joy and pleasure, but at the same time, it often makes you suffer. The duality of love is the mystery that sooner or later every person has to solve. At the same time, poetic natures strive to tell about their feelings not only to the subject of their hobbies, but often trust their paper, creating poems of amazing beauty, quivering and sublime.

10th place. Premonitions of love can be lingering and filled with sadness. However, most often that short period of time, when a person does not yet realize that he is already in love, is filled with confusion and anxiety. In his poem "Premonition of love is more terrible" Konstantin Simonov notes that the expectation of love is like the calm before the storm or a short respite before the attack, when feelings and thoughts rush at a gallop, and the soul is literally torn to pieces.

“Premonition of love is worse” K. Simonov

Premonition of love is scarier
Love itself. Love is like a fight
You made eye contact with her.
There is nothing to wait, she is with you.

Premonition of love is like a storm
Hands are getting a little wet
But silence still, and sounds
The piano can be heard through the curtains.

And on the barometer to hell
Everything is flying down, pressure is flying,
And in fear of doomsday
It's too late to hit the shores.

No, worse. It's like a trench
You, sitting, waiting for the whistle to attack,
And there, half a mile away, there is a sign
He is also waiting for a bullet in the forehead ...

9th place. Nevertheless, you still need to overcome the meat of obstacles and tell your chosen one or chosen one about your feelings, which for many people is a real test. After all, passions are already raging, but there is still not enough courage to take the first step. As a result, poems are born, similar to the one he wrote Alexander Pushkin. His "Confession" is a mixture of admiration and hope, joy and sadness, jealousy and despair. And hope that the feelings are mutual.

"Recognition" A. Pushkin

I love you, even though I'm mad
Though it's labor and shame in vain,
And in this unfortunate stupidity
At your feet I confess!
I don’t fit and I’m not old enough ...
It's time, it's time for me to be smarter!
But I know by all the signs
The sickness of love in my soul:
I'm bored without you - I yawn;
With you I feel sad - I endure;
And, no urine, I want to say
My angel, how I love you!
When I hear from the living room
Your easy step, il dress sum,
Or the voice of a virgin, innocent,
I suddenly lose all my mind.
You smile - my joy;
You turn away - I longing;
For a day of torment - a reward
Your pale hand to me.
When diligently behind the hoop
You sit, leaning casually,
Eyes and curls down, -
I am in tenderness, silently, gently
I love you like a child!
Should I tell you my misfortune,
My jealous sadness
When to walk, sometimes in bad weather,
Are you going far?
And your tears alone
And speeches in the corner together,
And travel to Opochka,
And the piano in the evening? ..
Alina! take pity on me.
I dare not ask for love.
Maybe for my sins
My angel, I'm not worthy of love!
But pretend! This look
Everything can express so wonderfully!
Oh, it's not hard to deceive me! ...
I'm glad to be deceived!

8th place. However, love does not happen without quarrels that can flare up over trifles. But if the feelings are strong enough, then the lovers find the strength to forgive each other mutual insults and reconcile. The feelings that people experience at the same time, he very accurately and vividly described in his poem "We are with you stupid people» poet Nikolai Nekrasov. In his opinion, after a quarrel, love flares up with new force giving joy, tenderness and spiritual cleansing.

“You and I are stupid people” N. Nekrasov

You and I are stupid people:
What a minute, the flash is ready!
Relief of an agitated chest,
An unreasonable, harsh word.

Speak up when you're angry
Everything that excites and torments the soul!
Let us, my friend, be angry openly:
The world is easier - and more likely to get bored.

If prose in love is inevitable,
So let's take a share of happiness from her:
After a quarrel so full, so tender
The return of love and participation ...

7th place. The opponent of quarrels, in turn, is Boris Pasternak. In the poem "To love others heavy cross» he claims that love makes a person more sublime and sensitive. And for the purification of the soul, it is not at all necessary to reward each other with mutual reproaches, and then seek consolation and ask for forgiveness. You can easily do without quarrels, and this is within the power of any person who truly loves.

“To love others is a heavy cross” B. Pasternak

To love others is a heavy cross,
And you are beautiful without convolutions,
And the charms of your secret
The solution to life is tantamount to.

In the spring, the rustle of dreams is heard
And the rustle of news and truths.
You are from a family of such foundations.
Your meaning, like air, is disinterested.

Easy to wake up and see
Shake verbal rubbish from the heart
And live without clogging in the future.
All this is not a big trick.

6th place. No one knows at what point the meeting will take place, which can subsequently drastically change a person's life. Love sometimes flares up quite suddenly, and Alexander Blok tried to capture this amazing moment in his poem “The Stranger”. However, he preferred to keep his feelings to himself, enjoying them like tart expensive wine. After all, love without reciprocity is not always colored by sadness. She can give no less joy than communicating with a loved one.

"Stranger" A. Blok

In the evenings above the restaurants
Hot air is wild and deaf
And rules drunken shouts
Spring and pernicious spirit.

Far above the lane dust,
Over the boredom of country cottages,
Slightly gilded bakery pretzel,
And the cry of a child is heard.

And every evening, behind the barriers,
Breaking pots,
Among the ditches they walk with the ladies
Proven wits.

Oarlocks creak above the lake
And a woman screams
And in the sky, accustomed to everything
The disk is pointlessly twisted.

And every evening the only friend
Reflected in my glass
And moisture tart and mysterious
Like me, humble and deaf.

And next to the neighboring tables
Sleepy lackeys stick out,
And drunkards with rabbit eyes
"In vino veritas!" scream.

And every evening, at the appointed hour
(Is this just a dream?)
Maiden's camp, seized by silks,
In the foggy window moves.

And slowly, passing among the drunk,
Always without companions, alone
Breathing in spirits and mists,
She sits by the window.

And breathe ancient beliefs
Her elastic silks
And a hat with mourning feathers
And in the rings a narrow hand.

And chained by a strange closeness,
I look behind the dark veil
And I see the enchanted shore
And the enchanted distance.

Deaf secrets are entrusted to me,
Someone's sun has been handed to me,
And all the souls of my bend
The tart wine pierced.

And ostrich feathers bowed
In my brain they sway
And bottomless blue eyes
Blooming on the far shore.

There is a treasure in my soul
And the key is entrusted only to me!
You're right, drunk monster!
I know: the truth is in wine.

5th place. However, a true ally of this bright and very strong feeling is a passion that overwhelms a person, plunging into a whirlpool of events and actions, for which he sometimes does not find an explanation, and does not want to do this. This is overwhelming feeling tried to display in my poem "I love you more than the sea, and the sky, and singing ..." Konstantin Balmont, admitting that passion flares up instantly, and only then it is replaced by real love full of tenderness and romance.

“I love you more than the sea, and the sky, and singing ...” K. Balmont

I love you more than the Sea and the Sky and the Singing
I love you longer than the days I was given on earth.
You alone burn for me, like a star in the silence of distance,
You are a ship that sinks neither in dreams, nor in waves, nor in darkness.

I fell in love with you unexpectedly, immediately, by accident,
I saw you - like a blind man suddenly widens his eyes
And, having regained his sight, he will be amazed that in the world the sculpture is soldered,
What is redundant down into the emerald, turquoise poured out.

I remember. Opening the book, you rustled the pages a little.
I asked: “Is it good that ice is broken in the soul?”
You flashed to me, instantly beheld the distance, the pupils.
And love - and love - about love - for the beloved - sings.

4th place. Another feeling that is an invariable companion of love is jealousy. Few lovers can avoid this bitter fate, at first tormented by doubts about reciprocal feelings, and later by the fear of losing a loved one forever. And often the most ardent and passionate love, poisoned by jealousy, develops into all-consuming hatred. An illustration of such a relationship is "Ballad of Hate and Love" by Eduard Asadov in which banal betrayal destroys not only love, but also serves as an incentive to survive, filling the heart with a thirst for revenge. Thus, love and hate perfectly complement each other and can coexist in the heart of almost any person who is not able to suppress one of these feelings in himself, and prefers his life to consist of a series of joys and disappointments.

"Ballad of hate and love" E. Asadov

The blizzard roars like a gray-haired giant,
The second day without abating,
Roars like five hundred aircraft turbines,
And there is no end to it, damn it!

Dancing with a huge white fire,
Shut off engines and turn off headlights.
The snowy airfield is hushed up,
Service buildings and hangars.

Dim light in a smoky room
The second day the radio operator does not sleep.
He catches, he listens to crackling and whistling,
Everyone is waiting tensely: is he alive or not?

The radio operator nods: - So far, yes,
But the pain won't let him straighten up.
And he still jokes: "They say, that's the trouble
My left plane is nowhere!
Most likely a fracture of the clavicle ... "

Somewhere a storm, no fire, no stars
Above the crash site.
Only the snow covers the debris traces
Yes, a freezing pilot.

Looking for tractors day and night
Yes, just wasted. It's embarrassing to tears.
Is it possible to find here, is it possible to help -
Can't you see your hands half a meter from the headlights?

And he understands, but he does not wait,
Lying in a hollow that will become a coffin.
Tractor even if it comes
It will still pass in two steps
And will not notice him under a snowdrift.

Now any operation is in vain.
And yet life is still heard.
You can hear his walkie-talkie
Miraculously, but saved.

I would stand up, but the pain burns my side,
Boots full of warm blood
She, cooling down, freezes into ice,
Snow gets into your nose and mouth.

What's broken? It is impossible to understand.
But just don't move, don't step!
So it's over, you see, your path!
And somewhere son, wife, friends ...

Somewhere a room, light, warmth...
Don't talk about it! Darkness in the eyes...
The snow must have covered a meter.
The body drowsily stiffens ...

And in the headset are the words:
— Hello! Do you hear? Hold on buddy
Head spinning...
— Hello! Take heart! You will be hunted down!

Take heart? What is he, a kid or a coward?!
In what after all there were alterations formidable.
- Thank you ... I understand you ... So far I'm holding on! —
And he adds to himself: “I’m afraid
That everything will be, it seems too late ... "

Completely cast iron head.
End in the walkie-talkie batteries.
They will last another hour or two.
Like logs of the arm ... the back goes numb ...

- Hello! - this seems to be a general. -
Hold on, dear, they will find you, dig you out ... -
Strange: the words ring like a crystal,
They beat, they knock, like metal in armor,
And they almost do not fly into the brain that has cooled down ...

To become suddenly the happiest on earth,
How little is probably needed:
Freezing completely, to be warm,
Where good word Yes, tea is on the table
A sip of alcohol and a puff of smoke ...

Again silence rustles in the headset.
Then through the blizzard howl:
— Hello! Here in the wheelhouse is your wife!
Now you will hear it. Attention!

For a minute the buzz of a tight wave,
Some rustles, cods, squeaks,
And suddenly the distant voice of his wife,
Painfully familiar, eerily close!

“I don’t know what to do or what to say.
Darling, you yourself know very well
What if you freeze completely
We must endure, we must endure!

Good, bright, dear!
Well, how to explain to her in the end,
That he did not die here on purpose,
That the pain even weakly sigh prevents
And the truth must be faced.

- Listen! Forecasters answered:
The storm will end in a day.
Will you last? Yes?
- Unfortunately no…
- How not? You are out of your mind!

Alas, all the words are muffled.
The denouement, here it is - no matter how hard it is.
Only one head lives
And the body is a cold piece of wood.

Not a sound. Silence. Probably crying.
How difficult it is to send a last greeting!
And suddenly: - If so, I must say! —
The voice is harsh, unrecognizable.
Weird. What does this mean?

"Believe me, I'm sorry to tell you.
Yesterday I would have hidden from fear.
But since you said that you won't live,
It's better not to reproach after yourself,
Tell you briefly everything that happened.

Know that I'm a bad wife
And I stand any bad word.
I've been unfaithful to you for a year now
And now it's been a year since I love another!

Oh how I suffered facing the flames
Your hot oriental eyes. —
He silently listened to her story,
Listened, maybe the last time,
Dry blade of grass clutching his teeth.

- Like this whole year I lied, I hid
But it's out of fear, not out of malice.
- Tell me the name! ..-
She paused
Then, as if hitting, she said the name,
Named his best friend!

He just wouldn't dare, couldn't, like me,
Endure meeting your eyes.
Don't be afraid for your son. He rides with us.
Now everything is anew: life and family.

Sorry. Not the time for these words.
But there will be no other time. —
He listens silently. Head on fire...
And as if a hammer is knocking on the crown of the head ...

What a pity that you can't help!
Fate mixed up all the ways.
Goodbye! Don't get angry and forgive if you can!
For meanness and joy, forgive me!

Has it been half a year or half an hour?
Probably ran out of batteries.
Farther away, quieter noises ... voices ...
Only the heart beats stronger and stronger!

It rumbles and hits the whiskey!
It blazes with fire and poison.
It's torn to pieces!
What is more in it: rage or longing?
It's too late to weigh, and it's not necessary!

Resentment floods the blood.
Before the eyes of a continuous fog.
Where is friendship in the world and where is love?
They don't exist! And the wind like an echo again:
They don't exist! All meanness and all deceit!

He is destined to die in the snow,
Like a dog, stiffening under the moans of a blizzard,
So that two traitors there, in the south,
Opening a bottle with laughter at your leisure,
Could a wake for him celebrate?!

They completely overwhelm the boy
And they will persevere to the end
To drive into his head the name of another
And tear out the name of the father from memory!

And yet a bright faith is given
The soul of a three-year-old boy.
The son listens to the rumble of aircraft and waits.
And he freezes, but he will not come!

Heart rumbles, knocks on whiskey,
Cocked like a revolver trigger.
From tenderness, rage and longing
It is torn to pieces.
Still, it's too early to give up!

Ah, strength! Where to take you from, where?
But here, after all, not life is at stake, but honor!
Miracle? Do you need a miracle?
So let it! Consider that there is a miracle!

We must rise at any cost
And with the whole being, rushing forward,
Break away from the frozen ground with your chest,
Like a plane that doesn't want to give up
And shot down, again goes to take off!

The pain rises so that it seems
Fall back dead, face down!
Still, he gets up, groaning.
A miracle, as you can see, is happening!
However, about the miracle later, later ...

The snowstorm throws ice salt,
But the body burns like a hot summer
My heart is pounding in my throat somewhere
Crimson rage and black pain!

Away through the wild carousel
The eyes of a boy that are truly waiting
They are big, in all the blizzard,
They guide him like a compass!

- Will not work! It's not true, I'm not lost! —
He is alive. He moves, he crawls!
Gets up, swings on the go,
Falls again and rises again...

By noon, the blizzard had died down and passed.
Fell and broke into pieces.
Fell as if cut off on the spot,
Releasing the sun from the white mouth.

He passed, in anticipation of the imminent spring,
Leaving after a night operation
On stunted bushes shreds of gray hair,
Like white flags of surrender.

Goes on a low-level helicopter,
Breaking the silence of silence.
Sixth turn, seventh turn,
He is looking for ... looking for ... and here, and here -
A dark dot in the midst of whiteness!

Quicker! The earth shook from the roar.
Quicker! Well, what is it: a beast? Man?
The dot swayed, rose
And collapsed again into deep snow ...

Getting closer, getting lower… Enough! Stop!
The machines hum smoothly and smoothly.
And the first without a ladder straight into the snowdrift
A woman darted from the cockpit!

She clung to her husband: - You are alive, you are alive!
I knew ... Everything will be so, not otherwise! ..-
And, carefully clasping the neck,
She whispered something, laughing and crying.

Trembling, kissed, as if half asleep,
Frozen hands, face and lips.
And he is barely audible, with difficulty, through his teeth:
“Don’t you dare… you yourself told me…”

- Shut up! No need! All nonsense, all nonsense!
By what yardstick did you measure me?
How could you believe?! And yet, no
How lucky you are to believe!

I knew, I knew your character!
Everything collapsed, perished ... at least howl, at least roar!
And I needed a chance, the last, any!
And hatred can burn sometimes
Even stronger than love!

And so, I say, and I myself shake,
I'm playing some scoundrel.
And I'm afraid that now I'll break,
I'll shout something, I'll burst into tears,
Unable to endure!

Forgive me for the bitterness, my love!
All my life for one, for one your look,
Yes, I, like a fool, will follow you,
Even to hell! Even in hell! Even to hell!

And her eyes were so
Eyes that loved and yearned
They were shining like that now.
That he looked into them and understood everything!

And, half frozen, half alive,
He suddenly became the happiest person on the planet.
Hatred, no matter how strong at times,
Not the strongest thing in the world!

3rd place. It's no secret that over time, even the most ardent feelings become dull, and love turns into an endless routine. Anticipating the development of relationships in this way and realizing that only a few succeed in avoiding a breakup happy couples, Nikolai Klyuev wrote a poem "Love began in the summer". In it, he tried to answer the question why people, who only yesterday admired each other so much, today are full of indifference and even some contempt both for themselves and for former lover. But - you can’t command feelings, and you have to put up with it, even if on initial stage development of relationships, it seems to both lovers that their union is eternal. In life, everything is much more banal and prosaic. Faded feelings are rarely resurrected. And more often than not, a romance that ended in parting eventually causes only a slight sadness in its heroes.

“Love began in the summer” N. Klyuev

Love began in the summer
End - autumn September.
You came up to me with greetings
In a girl's simple dress.

Handed over a red testicle
As a symbol of blood and love:
Don't rush north, birdie
Wait for spring in the south!

The smoky copses turn blue,
Alert and mute
Behind the patterned curtains
The melting winter is not visible.

But the heart feels: there are fogs,
The movement of the vague forests,
Inevitable Deceptions
Lilac-gray evenings.

Oh, do not fly into the mists like a bird!
Years will go into gray haze -
You will be a poor nun
Stand on the porch in the corner.

And maybe I'll pass by
The same poor and thin ...
Oh give me cherub wings
Fly invisibly behind you!

Don't say hello to you
And don't repent later...
Love began in the summer
End - autumn September.

2nd place. But sometimes the image of a once close and beloved person is simply erased from the heart, thrown into the back of memory, like useless thing and nothing can be done about it. Experienced a similar situation Ivan Bunin, who in the poem "We met by chance, on the corner ..." warns all beloved ones that sooner or later they will be forgotten. And this is a kind of payment for love, which is inevitable, unless people can learn to accept their chosen ones as they are, forgiving them their imperfection.

“We met by chance, on the corner…” I. Bunin

We met by chance on the corner.
I walked quickly and suddenly, like the light of lightning
Evening cut through the gloom
Through black radiant eyelashes.

She was wearing crepe, a transparent light gas
The spring wind blew for a moment,
But on the face and in the bright gleam of the eyes
I caught the former revival.

And she kindly nodded to me,
Slightly tilted her face from the wind
And disappeared around the corner ... It was spring ...
She forgave me and forgot.

1 place. An example of such an all-consuming love, which is devoid of conventions and therefore close to the ideal, can be found in poem by Osip Mandelstam "I'm sorry that it's winter now ...". Love is, first of all, a huge amount of work to maintain a feeling that can fade at any moment. And - the realization that it is made up of various little things, the value of which people realize only when they lose them.

"I'm sorry that it's winter now..." O. Mandelstam

I'm sorry it's winter now
And mosquitoes are not heard in the house,
But you reminded yourself
About frivolous straw.

Dragonflies curl in the blue
And fashion swirls like a swallow;
Basket on the head
Or a pompous ode?

I'm not going to advise
And useless excuses
But whipped cream tastes eternal
And the smell of orange peel.

You interpret everything at random
It doesn't get any worse than this.
What to do: the most gentle mind
Everything is placed outside.

And you're trying to yolk
Beat with an angry spoon
He turned white, he was exhausted.
And yet a little more...

And, really, it's not your fault, -
Why grades and undersides?
You were created on purpose
For a comedy brawl.

Everything in you teases, everything sings,
Like an Italian roulade.
And a little cherry mouth
Dry asks for grapes.

So don't try to be smart
Everything is a whim in you, everything is a minute,
And the shadow from your hat -
Venetian bout.

What to give a loved one? There are many options, but poetry always comes first.

With their help, you can express feelings that overwhelm the soul. This is the most the right way melt the ice of distrust and draw attention to yourself.

Love lyrics can be different. Sometimes words from the heart are enough. And let the verses be clumsy, and carefully prepared words of recognition are full of grammatical or even spelling errors - it doesn’t matter! The main thing is that they are born independently, and express what the soul feels at the moment of excitement.

But not everyone thinks so. After all, the subject of passion, especially at the beginning of a relationship, is unknown land, "terra incognita". It is not known how impromptu will be perceived, even filled with sincere love and real emotions.

Quite another matter - the works of the classics. Known a wide range Readers love poems of classical poets still make a strong impression regardless of the number of repetitions. In addition, a person who reads poetry famous poet, shows a loved one his erudition and erudition.

Does anyone understand and talk about female love better than Anna Akhmatova or Marina Tsvetaeva? Have the words of the great Pushkin and the romantic Lermontov lost their relevance? Classical works never get old, just as true love never gets old.

The beauty of rhymes, unexpected comparisons, colorful metaphors in the love poems of classical poets are best able to express the depth of feelings of a person in love. At the moment when own words lost due to surging emotions, classical works - the best way show yourself in the best possible light.

Where to find the verses of the classics, suitable specific person and his the only love? The answer is simple: in books. But it's hard to imagine how many pages you have to flip through in search of the necessary poem! In times of general rush, it is difficult to find time for such a thorough search.

Our site contains the most touching, most the best poems about love. They are organized so conveniently that to find desired work does not amount to any work. A large selection of poems allows you to satisfy the most demanding taste.

Love is a feeling that has no age limits. An experienced lady and a naive girl, a mature man and an ardent young man are equally defenseless against the power of love. In the classics, you can find love poems for any age and for any occasion. Our site contains classic works different authors, from the most popular to the least known. We provide an opportunity to find a poem by a classic poet that will tell exactly about your - real, unique, deep Love.

AT modern world with its crazy pace and dynamics, women are forced to take on far from feminine responsibilities. They easily decide difficult problems, cope with several tasks at the same time, and so on in the spirit of galloping horses and burning huts.

But after all, one must not forget about rest and relaxation, which is best helped by a cup of hot cocoa and books about love. Love stories, especially classics about love, can bring you back to the roots of femininity, give you an unforgettable feeling of tenderness and beauty.

We have selected famous love stories which have been capturing the female audience for many years. The best classic about love will give you more than one pleasant evening. The love line in each novel is special and unique.

1. Jane Austen "Pride and Prejudice". This book rightfully occupies one of the first places among all love classics. This is confirmed by the number of screen adaptations in which actors with world fame are involved. Modern writers they also do not want to leave the plot of the book alone, using it even as the basis for fantastic action films about zombies. The novel is a combination of classic family foundations and relationships between the sexes, diluted with humor, gaiety and wit.



2. Leo Tolstoy "Anna Karenina". Sad as it may seem, but often great and passionate love does not end as well as we would like. So it happened with the famous heroine of the novel by Leo Tolstoy. Maybe for more tragedy, or maybe, on the contrary, for the sake of faith in the best, the story of Anna Karenina's unhappy love is depicted against the background of the happy and tender affection of Konstantin Levin and Kitty Shcherbatskaya. After reading the novel, you can also enjoy one of the more than 30 productions of the book for every taste, from ballets and musicals to series and films.



3. Margaret Mitchell "Gone with the Wind". Who among us has not sympathized with the restless Scarlet or sighed for the proud Rhett Butler? The book will plunge you into the difficult life of a young girl, full of love and life experiences and troubles. But not every woman can get out of them and find solutions to problems, like Scarlett O'Hara. The best-selling novel by the American writer will not leave anyone indifferent.



4. Emily Bronte" Wuthering Heights" . The fate of the Bronte sisters was not easy, short life Emily was also given. Only one novel managed to come out from under her pen, but what a novel it turned out to be! No wonder Wuthering Heights is considered the standard among romantic and gothic literature XIX century. The mystical and crazy love of the main characters will leave a mark in your soul for a long time.



5. Fyodor Dostoyevsky "The Idiot". A great and pure feeling can embrace completely different people. Fate simultaneously rewarded love for one woman and tender, kind heart Prince Myshkin, and the violent, passionate head of the merchant Parfyon Rogozhin. But did the truly Russian beauty Nastasya Filippovna love any of them, or did she just play with young people? How did each of this trinity pay for their love? Don't be afraid to spend your time on famous work Russian writer, such emotions should not be wasted.



6. Reshat Nuri Gyuntekin "King - songbird". Beautiful story about mutual love, which faced difficult trials. A life-affirming novel about the girl Ferida, whose beauty often becomes an obstacle to happiness, but a kind and courageous heart stubbornly paves the way to a joyful future and the embrace of a loved one.



7. Francis Scott Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby". Here we will be transported to New York, to an atmosphere of luxury and prosperity, huge villas and wild entertainment of the "golden" youth. The protagonist carried his feelings through many years, for the sake of him he gained great wealth and fame, but they could not bring him such a desired happiness. And for fans of Leonardo DiCaprio's now Oscar-winning game, this is a wonderful film adaptation of 2013.



8. Charlotte Brontë "Jane Eyre". Happiness was given to the main character of this novel at a difficult price. But if everything was easy and colorful, would it be so interesting and exciting? Complicated but beautiful story the life of a poor girl who was not broken by the blows of fate and the attitude of evil and unfair people.



9. Colin McCullough "The Thorn Birds". The book covers many years and generations of the same family, so it can be classified as an epic novel. But the central plot is still considered the story of the relationship between the girl Maggie and the priest Ralph. Having carried a great and sincere feeling throughout their lives, will they be able to discard all conventions and enjoy happiness?