In all centuries, philosophers and poets, doctors and scientists, astrologers and psychics have tried to come to an accurate definition of this unique feeling, which can be so strong that it captures a person completely, burning him in the fire of passion, and can be light, sublime, airy. So far, not a single outstanding mind on the planet, into whose head such thoughts have occurred, has been able to answer the question “what is love.” And is it worth trying to interpret such a complex matter formed by the interweaving of two loving souls, ready to turn inside out for the sake of each other’s happiness?

Lyrical poems about love are what carry eternal love stories through the centuries. They contain everything: all-consuming joy, unearthly bliss, the triumph of a great feeling, insane lust, wild passion, slight sadness, the sadness of separation, the pain of loss... This list of feelings that the authors put, are putting and will put into their immortal creations can be continued indefinitely . As we see, there was a place in it not only for bright, joyful emotions, but also for the bitterness of separation and loss. And this is not surprising, because love can be compared to the elements. It is like the sea, sometimes calm, peaceful, sometimes stormy, boiling, destructive, sweeping away everything in its path.

Beautiful rhyming lines are ideal for opening your feelings. With their help, you can convey everything that is going on in your soul, what you feel for a person very close to you. And it doesn’t matter whether we are talking about the first timid feelings, which are filled with still unclear languor, tenderness, or in poetic form you once again decided to reveal your aspirations to your soulmate.

They say that love is the feeling that fills a person’s life with meaning and generously bestows divine blessings on him. Even if you have not yet had the opportunity to experience this incredible feeling, from lyrical poems about love you can learn a lot of new things about human relationships, open the door to a wonderful world without conventions and boundaries, where Her Majesty Love reigns.

In this section, we have collected for you the best lyrical poems about love, which our editors managed to find among the great variety of pearls of famous and just beginning poets. We hope you enjoy our unique selection. Love and be loved! Perhaps it is your feeling that will someday form the basis of another heartfelt and sensual lyrical poem.

I present to you a selection of the best love poems from the classics. Here are presented the love lyrics of poets of the Pushkin era and poets of the Silver Age.

The best classic poems about love

One more acacia
I lowered the branches with flowers
And it’s spring over the gazebo
She did not round the fragrant vaults.

A hot breeze blew
We sat in the shadows with each other,
And in front of us on the sand
The day was golden all around.

The night was shining. The garden was full of moonlight. were lying
Rays at our feet in a living room without lights.
The piano was all open, and the strings in it were trembling,
Just like our hearts follow your song.

You sang until dawn, exhausted in tears,
That you alone are love, that there is no other love,

I came to you with greetings,
Tell me that the sun has risen
What is it with hot light
The sheets began to flutter;

Tell me that the forest has woken up,
All woke up, every branch,
Every bird was startled
And full of thirst in spring;

She gave herself without reproach,
She kissed without words.
- Like a dark sea deep,
How the edges of the clouds breathe!

She didn't say, "Don't"
She didn't expect vows.

I fell in love with you, I just saw you for the first time.
I remember there was an insignificant conversation going on,
Only you were silent, and your speeches were fiery,
Your gaze sent silent words to me.

Maybe when you leave me,
You will be colder towards me.
But all my life, until the last day,
Oh my friend, you will be mine.

I know that new passions will come,
With someone else you will forget yourself again.

"Love!" - the rustling birches sing,
When their earrings bloomed.
"Love!" - the lilac sings in the colored dust.
"Love! Love!" - the roses sing, flaming.

Be afraid of lovelessness. And run threats
Dispassionate. Your afternoon is suddenly far away.

Oh, woman, child, accustomed to play
And the gaze of tender eyes, and the caress of a kiss,
I should despise you with all my heart,
And I love you, worrying and yearning!

No. Leave quickly. Don't call for delight.
Be in love? - Loving, killing - that’s the beauty of love.
I love only a moment - and I move away.
It was a clear day with me - the night swirls behind me.

I believe: under one star
You and I were born;
We walked the same road,
We were deceived by the same dreams.
But well! - from a noble goal
Torn away by a storm of passions,
I forgot in the fruitless struggle
Legends of my youth.

Love lyrics is 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 a riddle 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 also often trust them on paper, creating poems of amazing beauty, reverent and sublime.

10th place. The anticipation of love can be painful 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 waiting for love is like the calm before the storm or a short respite before the attack, when feelings and thoughts gallop, and the soul is literally torn to pieces.

“Premonition of love is more terrible” K. Simonov

The premonition of love is worse
Love itself. Love is like a fight
You got along with her eye to eye.
There is no need to wait, she is with you.

The premonition of love is like a storm,
My hands are already a little damp,
But there is still silence, and sounds
The piano can be heard from behind the curtains.

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

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

9th place. However, you still need to overcome 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 like the one he wrote are born Alexander Pushkin. His "Confession" is a mixture of admiration and hope, joy and sadness, jealousy and despair. And hope that the feelings are mutual.

“Confession” A. Pushkin

I love you, even though I'm mad,
Although this is labor and shame in vain,
And in this unfortunate stupidity
At your feet I confess!
It doesn’t suit me and is beyond my years...
It's time, it's time for me to be smarter!
But I recognize it by all the signs
The disease of love in my soul:
I'm bored without you - I yawn;
I feel sad in front of you - I endure;
And, I have no courage, I want to say,
My angel, how I love you!
When I hear from the living room
Your light step, or dresses sum,
Or a virgin, innocent voice,
I suddenly lose all my mind.
You smile - it gives me joy;
You turn away - I'm sad;
For a day of torment - a reward
I want your pale hand.
When you are diligent about the hoop
You sit, leaning casually,
Eyes and curls drooping, -
I am moved, silently, tenderly
I admire you like a child!..
Should I tell you my misfortune,
My jealous sadness
When to walk, sometimes in bad weather,
Are you going far away?
And your tears alone,
And speeches in the corner together,
And travel to Opochka,
And piano in the evening?..
Alina! have pity on me.
I don't dare demand love.
Perhaps for my sins,
My angel, I'm not worth love!
But pretend! This look
Everything can be expressed so wonderfully!
Ah, it’s not difficult to deceive me!…
I'm happy to be deceived myself!

8th place. However, love does not exist without quarrels, which can break out over trifles. But if the feelings are strong enough, then the lovers find the strength to forgive each other for mutual insults and reconcile. The feelings that people experience at the same time were very accurately and vividly described in his poem “You and I are stupid people” by poet Nikolai Nekrasov. In his opinion, after a quarrel, love flares up with renewed vigor, giving joy, tenderness and spiritual cleansing.

“You and I are stupid people” N. Nekrasov

You and I are stupid people:
In just a minute, the flash is ready!
Relief for a troubled chest
An unreasonable, harsh word.

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

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

7th place. The opponent of quarrels, in turn, is Boris Pasternak. In the poem “Loving others is a heavy cross” he claims that love makes a person more sublime and sensitive. And to cleanse 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 any person who truly loves can do this.

“Loving others is a heavy cross” B. Pasternak

Loving others is a heavy cross,
And you are beautiful without gyrations,
And your beauty is a secret
It is tantamount to the solution to life.

In spring the rustling of dreams is heard
And the rustle of news and truths.
You come from a family of such fundamentals.
Your meaning, like air, is selfless.

It's easy to wake up and see clearly,
Shake out the verbal trash from the heart
And live without getting clogged in the future.
All this is not a big trick.

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

"Stranger" A. Blok

In the evenings above the restaurants
The hot air is wild and deaf,
And rules with drunken shouts
Spring and pernicious spirit.

Far above the dust of the alley,
Above the boredom of country dachas,
The bakery's pretzel is slightly golden,
And a child's cry is heard.

And every evening, behind the barriers,
Breaking the pots,
Walking among the ditches with the ladies
Tested wits.

Oarlocks creak over the lake
And a woman's squeal is heard,
And in the sky, accustomed to everything
The disk is bent senselessly.

And every evening my only friend
Reflected in my glass
And tart and mysterious moisture
Like me, humbled and stunned.

And next to the neighboring tables
Sleepy lackeys hang around,
And drunkards with rabbit eyes
“In vino veritas!” they scream.

And every evening, at the appointed hour
(Or am I just dreaming?),
The girl's figure, captured by silks,
A window moves through a foggy window.

And slowly, walking between the drunks,
Always without companions, alone
Breathing spirits and mists,
She sits by the window.

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

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

Silent secrets have been entrusted to me,
Someone's sun was handed to me,
And all the souls of my bend
Tart wine pierced.

And ostrich feathers bowed
My brain is swinging,
And blue bottomless eyes
They bloom on the far shore.

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

5th place. However, the true ally of this bright and very strong feeling is passion, which overwhelms a person, plunging him into a whirlpool of events and actions for which he sometimes does not find an explanation, and does not want to do so. I tried to reflect this all-consuming feeling 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 is it replaced by true 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 have been given on earth.
You alone burn for me like a star in the silence of the distance,
You are a ship that does not sink in dreams, or in waves, or in darkness.

I fell in love with you unexpectedly, immediately, accidentally,
I saw you - like a blind man suddenly widens his eyes
And, having regained his sight, he will be amazed that in the world sculpture is welded together,
That turquoise poured down excessively into the emerald.

I remember. Having opened the book, you rustled the pages slightly.
I asked: “Is it good that ice is refracted in the soul?”
You flashed your eyes towards me, instantly seeing the distance.
And I love - and love - about love - for my beloved - he sings.

4th place. Another feeling that is a constant 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 their loved one forever. And often the most ardent and passionate love, poisoned by jealousy, develops into all-consuming hatred. An illustration of such relationships can be “The 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 hatred perfectly complement each other and can coexist in the heart of almost any person who is not able to suppress one of these feelings and prefers his life to consist of a series of joys and disappointments.

“Ballad of Hatred and Love” by E. Asadov

The blizzard roars like a gray-haired giant,
For the second day without calming down,
Roars like five hundred airplane turbines,
And there is no end to it, damned!

Dancing with a huge white fire,
Turns off the engines and turns off the headlights.
The snowy airfield is jammed,
Service buildings and hangars.

There is dim light in the smoky room,
The radio operator has not slept for two days.
He catches, he listens to the crackling and whistling,
Everyone is waiting tensely: is he alive or not?

The radio operator nods: “For now, yes.”
But the pain does not allow him to straighten up.
And he also jokes: “Like, here’s the problem
My left plane is going nowhere!
Most likely a collarbone fracture..."

Somewhere there is a storm, no fire, no star
Above the scene of the plane crash.
Only snow covers up the traces of debris
Yes, a freezing pilot.

They search for tractors day and night,
Yes, but in vain. It's a shame to the point of tears.
Is it possible to find it here, is it possible to help?
You can't see your hand half a meter from the headlights?

And he understands, but he doesn’t wait,
Lying in a hollow that will become a coffin.
Even if the tractor comes,
It will still pass in two steps
And he won’t notice him under the snowdrift.

Now any operation is in vain.
And yet life can still be heard.
You can hear his walkie-talkie
By some miracle, she was saved.

I would like to get up, but the pain burns my side,
The boots are full of warm blood,
As it cools down, it freezes into ice,
Snow gets into your nose and mouth.

What's interrupted? It is impossible to understand.
But just don’t move, don’t step!
So, apparently, your journey is over!
And somewhere there is a son, a wife, friends...

Somewhere there is a room, light, warmth...
Don't talk about it! It's getting dark in my eyes...
There was probably a meter of snow covering it.
The body becomes sleepy...

And in the headset the words sound:
- Hello! Can you hear? Hold on, buddy -
My head is spinning...
- Hello! Take heart! They'll find you!..

Take heart? What is he, a boy or a coward?!
What terrible alterations he has been in.
- Thank you... I understand... I’m holding on for now! —
And he adds to himself: “I’m afraid
That everything will happen, it seems too late..."

Totally cast iron head.
The radio's batteries are running out.
They will last for another hour or two.
Your arms are like logs... your back is going numb...

- Hello! - This seems to be the general. -
Hold on, dear, they will find you, dig you up... -
It’s strange: the words ring like crystal,
They beat and knock like metal on armor,
And when the brain has cooled down, they almost never fly...

To suddenly become the happiest on earth,
How little is probably needed:
Having completely frozen, find yourself warm,
Where kind word yes there is tea on the table,
A sip of alcohol and a puff of smoke...

Again there is silence in the headset.
Then, through the blizzard howl:
- Hello! Your wife is in the wheelhouse here!
Now you will hear it. Attention!

For a minute the hum of a tight wave,
Some rustles, crackles, squeaks,
And suddenly the distant voice of his wife,
Painfully familiar, terribly close!

- I don’t know what to do and what to say.
Darling, you know very well yourself,
What if you’re completely frozen,
We must endure, resist!

Nice, bright, dear!
Well, how can I explain to her in the end?
That he didn’t die here on purpose,
That the pain prevents you from even breathing faintly
And we must face the truth.

- Listen! Forecasters responded:
The storm will end in a day.
Will you hold out? Yes?
- Unfortunately no…
- Why not? You're out of your mind!

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

Not a sound. Silence. She's probably crying.
How difficult it is to send your last greetings!
And suddenly: - If so, I have to say! —
The voice is sharp, unrecognizable.
Strange. What could this mean?

- Believe me, I’m sad to tell you.
Just yesterday I would have hidden it out of fear.
But since you said that you won't live long enough,
It’s better not to reproach yourself afterward,
Let me tell you briefly everything that happened.

Know that I'm a crappy wife
And I'm worth every bad word.
I haven't been faithful to you for a year now
And now I’ve been in love with someone else for a year now!

Oh, how I suffered when I met the flames
Your hot oriental eyes. —
He listened silently to her story,
I listened, maybe for the last time,
Clutching a dry blade of grass between his teeth.

- So for a whole year I lied, hid,
But this is out of fear, not out of malice.
- Tell me the name!..-
She paused
Then, as if she had struck her, she said her name,
I named him my best friend!

He simply wouldn’t dare, couldn’t, just like me,
Hold on, meeting your eyes.
Don't be afraid for your son. He's coming with us.
Now everything is all over again: life and family.

Sorry. These words are not timely.
But there will be no other time. —
He listens silently. My head is burning...
And it’s as if a hammer is knocking on the crown of your head...

- What a pity that you can’t help in any way!
Fate mixed up all the paths.
Goodbye! Don't be angry and forgive if you can!
Forgive me for my meanness and joy!

Has it been six months or half an hour?
The batteries must have run out.
Farther and quieter the noises... voices...
Only the heart beats stronger and stronger!

It rumbles and hits your temples!
It blazes with fire and poison.
It's torn to pieces!
What is more in him: rage or melancholy?
It’s too late to weigh, and there’s no need to!

Resentment fills the blood like a wave.
There is a complete fog before my eyes.
Where is friendship in the world and where is love?
They are not there! And the wind is like an echo again:
They are not there! All meanness and all deception!

He is destined to die in the snow,
Like a dog, stiffened by the moans of a blizzard,
So that two traitors there in the south
Opening the bottle with a laugh at your leisure,
Could a wake be held for him?!

They'll completely bully the kid
And they will persevere until the end,
To drive the name of another into his head
And take my father's name out of my memory!

And yet bright faith is given
The little soul of a three-year-old boy.
The son listens to the drone of planes and waits.
And he’s freezing, but he won’t come!

The heart is thundering, knocking on the temples,
Cocked like the hammer of a revolver.
From tenderness, rage and melancholy
It is torn to pieces.
But it’s still too early to give up, too early!

Oh, strength! Where can I get you, where?
But here it’s not life at stake, but honor!
Miracle? Do you need a miracle, you say?
So let it be! Consider it a miracle!

We must rise at any cost
And with all my being, rushing forward,
Take your chest off the frozen ground,
Like a plane that doesn't want to give up
And after being shot down, he takes off again!

The pain comes such that it seems
You'll fall back dead, face down!
And yet he gets up, wheezing.
A miracle, as you see, is happening!
However, about the miracle later, later...

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

Far away through the wild carousel
The boy's eyes are waiting,
They are big, in the middle of a snowstorm,
They guide him like a compass!

- Will not work! It's not true, I won't get lost! —
He's alive. He's moving, crawling!
Gets up, sways as he goes,
He falls again and gets up again...

By noon the storm died down and gave up.
It fell and suddenly fell apart.
He 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 overnight surgery
There are wisps of gray hair on the stunted bushes,
Like white flags of surrender.

There's a helicopter going on a low-level plane,
Breaking the silence of silence.
Sixth spread, seventh spread,
He is looking... looking... and behold, and behold -
A dark dot in the midst of whiteness!

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

Getting closer, getting lower... Enough! Stop!
The cars hum smoothly and smoothly.
And the first one without a ladder, straight into a snowdrift
A woman rushed out of the cabin!

She fell to her husband: “You’re alive, you’re alive!”
I knew... Everything would be like this, not otherwise!..-
And, carefully clasping your neck,
She whispered something, laughing and crying.

Trembling, she kissed, as if half asleep,
Frozen hands, face and lips.
And he barely audible, with difficulty, through clenched teeth:
- Don’t you dare... you yourself told me...

- Shut up! No need! All nonsense, all nonsense!
By what yardstick have you measured me?
How could you believe?! But no,
What a blessing that you believed!

I knew, I knew your character!
Everything was collapsing, dying... even a howl, even a roar!
And I needed a chance, the last one, any chance!
And hatred can sometimes burn
Even stronger than love!

And so, I say, but I myself am shaking,
I'm playing some kind of scoundrel.
And I'm still afraid that I'll fall apart now,
I’ll shout something, burst into tears,
Unable to stand it to the end!

Forgive me for the bitterness, my beloved!
All my life for one, for one look from you,
Yes, like a fool, I will follow you,
To hell with it! Even to hell! Even to hell!

And her eyes were like this,
Eyes that loved and yearned,
They were shining with such light now,
That he looked at them and understood everything!

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

3rd place. It's no secret that over time, even the most ardent feelings dull, and love turns into an endless routine. Anticipating the development of relationships in this way and realizing that only a few happy couples manage to avoid separation, Nikolai Klyuev wrote the poem “Love began in the summer”. In it, he tried to answer the question of why people who just yesterday admired each other so much are today full of indifference and even some contempt for both themselves and their former lovers. But you cannot command feelings, and you have to put up with this, even if at the initial stage of development of the relationship it seems to both lovers that their union is eternal. In life, everything is much more banal and prosaic. Rarely does anyone manage to revive faded feelings. And more often than not, a romance that ends in separation over time causes only slight sadness in its characters.

“Love began in the summer” N. Klyuev

Love began in the summer
The end is in autumn September.
You came up to me with greetings
In a simple girl's outfit.

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

The woods turn smoky blue,
Wary and dumb
Behind the patterned curtains
The melting winter is not visible.

But the heart senses: there are fogs,
The movement of the forests is vague,
Inevitable deceptions
Lilac-gray evenings.

Oh, don't fly into the fogs like a bird!
The years will pass into gray darkness -
You will be a beggar nun
Stand on the porch in the corner.

And maybe I'll pass by
Just as poor and thin...
Oh give me cherub wings
Flying invisibly behind you!

I can’t pass you by with greetings,
And don’t repent later...
Love began in the summer
The end is in autumn September.

2nd place. But sometimes the image of a once close and beloved person is simply erased from the heart, thrown into the background of memory, like an unnecessary thing, and nothing can be done about it. I had to go through a similar situation Ivan Bunin, who in the poem “We met by chance, on the corner...” warns all lovers 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 for their imperfections.

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

We met by chance on the corner.
I walked quickly and suddenly, like lightning,
Cut through the evening darkness
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 shine of the eyes
I caught the former excitement.

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

1 place. An example of such all-consuming love, which is devoid of conventions and therefore close to the ideal, can be found in Osip Mandelstam’s poem “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 away at any moment. And - the awareness that it consists 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 you can’t hear mosquitoes in the house,
But you reminded me yourself
About frivolous straw.

Dragonflies fly in the blue,
And fashion swirls like a swallow;
Basket on the head
Or a bombastic ode?

I don't dare to advise
And excuses are useless
But whipped cream tastes forever
And the smell of orange peel.

You're interpreting everything at random
This doesn't make it any worse
What to do: the most gentle mind
Everything fits 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 reverse?
You were created on purpose
For a comedic altercation.

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

So don't try to be smarter
Everything about you is a whim, every minute,
And the shadow of your cap -
Venetian bauta.

Love is a wonderful feeling...
Love is courage and fear.
Sometimes it's sad,
But this happens less often.
Love is happiness and joy,
When your soul is so warm...
And this is heavenly sweetness...
And two hearts as one.

There are so many words spoken about love,
So many songs have been sung about love!
But they are all born again in the heart,
The lines are fresh, like couplets.

Without love we cannot breathe,
We often suffocate from love.
And sometimes it's so hard for us to understand
What to love is complete happiness!

It happens that they are separated.
Between them is the ocean, taiga, snow.
But they always remember each other,
And it seems that the right hand is nearby.
And often it can be: spouses
We've already forgotten about each other...

Someone whispers to me in silence:
It was not by chance that we met you,
And at the behest of the angelic soul -
She found out our secret.

We dreamed of knowing love,
Feel your heart cry.
We met once - and again
Only happiness will disturb us.

Snow white and white,
The pouring rain
Quiet, clumsy
We are heading towards love.

No matter what happens,
We will always be.
It's not in vain that the mercy
We have been given love.

I love that's why
I want to be better
Whether in winter or summer
I'm flying to you.

When love touched me
Spring has awakened in my soul.
The blizzards and snow are gone,
It's a great time.

With love I conquer evil
I surprise others with this.
And I understand that it’s not in vain
You chose love, me!

Loving, we become better,
We feel people and the world more deeply,
It gives meaning and inspiration
And every moment is wonderful with her!

Let it grow and prosper,
Promises goodness, success and joy,
May its fruits be blessed,
Let him help us reach heights!

Pearl from the sea
Secrets from the earth
And the feeling is like bondage,
Eats from the inside.
And if everyone knows:
Hope - longest
Lives in this world,
That love is like sin
Lives in the mortal body,
And through genes through the centuries,
Love, it is immortal
She's like emptiness
Fills all spaces
And gives the opportunity in the future
Overcome adversity
And sing it to its glory.
So may love protect you
So let your heart beat fast
Love is like diamond, granite
If it's real, it won't break!

Love is meaning, understanding,
Feelings of sincerity and attention,
Love is an alluring scent
And a real taste for life!

Love creates, exists,
And paints pictures of happiness,
Makes it better, calls you to fly,
Where your cherished dream awaits!

Like on the hottest summer day
We are all looking for shade from the heat.
Like through the wind and cold
We want to warm ourselves by the fire,
So in life we ​​always
We are all waiting for her to come.

She'll make everyone drunk,
It will warm and shelter everyone.
Will give hope, faith, strength,
And he will never betray us.
So always look for love
Open your hearts to her!

Happiness is not the size
Not in money and days, -
And in love and passion,
Good news!

Not chasing a dream
Not in food with wine.
And in the family, -
Where peace lives.

Vladimir Zabolotsky

Line spacing of interjections
Between us there is a whiplash,
It hits the spineless rocks,
Burns your back with its tail:
I would be glad not to sing about you,
Don't waste your delight
Do not knit loops from stitches
In a simple way about simple things!

But it can’t - it’s not easier,
The singer's throat is not silent:
You are hidden in every thing
A loud rumble in the chest,
You splash a raging river
Because of all my dams
You tear down the roofs between the rivers,
You dream of happiness in the flesh
- I hope the dream was prophetic:
I sang in it - and not alone.

Jade

I belong to no one. And now a stranger to you,
I am not for you, but I was.
The splash of the reaches, the water of the creeks -
Floated away.

Now I'm wet outside the windows,
Behind the circles in the autumn water,
Behind the winds with faded fans,
Beyond the spaces, there - in nowhere.

What shot up with a high flame,
What flickered in the depths of the eyes -
Everything faded, died, froze,
I'm a stranger to you now.

Handed over (God knows what he's doing)
For me alone, for you alone
The whole world and the whole freedom,
Indivisible in half.

And I can’t be returned, I can’t be exchanged,
I can’t think of it (not that, not that one),
And no flame, and no name,
The chill of an empty leaf.

Natalya Silantieva

My passion is from the fox family -
No matter how much you tell her “screw!” - but no,
Doesn't understand the cat's language
Not intimidated, not wasted
For women's shaggy fur coats.
With her it would be different, with her it would be affectionate,
Otherwise it will just circle around in the night,
And don’t lure him out, and don’t gut him.

My passion for winter has darkened,
Yellow-eyed, brutal,
From the frosty dawns, mischief,
Irrepressible, wild,
Resourceful and cunning -
Neither with traps, nor with half a liter,
Not by deception, sneaking up on her from the rear,
I can’t catch her, bitch.

Exhausted by the chase,
I'm standing by a pine tree, and standing
You can see loops of footprints circling
Between past and present.
Resting my butt on the ground, I
I'll close my eyes... The last ones
Days are like a dream, but there are chances to rescue
Me myself. Single shot.

The beast will tremble as it runs - and there’s nowhere to go
To run away, there was space - but there is none!
Taurus - in the snow, not breathing... By morning, under her
It will thaw down to the lilies of the valley.

Just wait... If you and time
Firmly connected, inseparable,
You break into moments
Flying over the cliff
Second by second, almost invisible,
The pain of the fragments would be collected by the handful...
You see, autumn is knocking playfully
A frozen rusty bunch
Out our window?..
No, what vulgarity -
Covering the foulbrood with purple,
Expose the myocardial cavity
Under the clips of gray-haired Cupids!

Just wait... I'm waiting. It didn't work out
To become an actress, all this is in vain -
It's funny for me to watch how magnificently
The remains of summer stick out
From garden sculptures, their shoulders
They climb out of the neckline shamelessly...
Cover yourself up... Cold evening
And besides, it’s almost invisible
Too late…
In museum splendor
They will not be eager to give roses
To the pretty old frescoes,
Warped from the frost.

Autumn, having drunk, bristles its wings,
And think what audacity
Exude vanilla aroma
In this gloomy shame and abomination,
On this night, where the asphalt is mutilated
Dirty puddles, and the dawn is in wrinkles,
It would be too inhumane
Indulge in the root cause
Our weakness... or strength...
Who will sort it out after the fact!
Nauseating scent of vanilla
Along the sides of wet roads
Slightly noticeable...

But how powerful
The time is approaching you
Like a lover, caressing passionately,
Kissing your neck.
So rejoice, have fun and celebrate!
Dresses in bright autumn colors
They fly around you... Well, hello.
Soon it will snow and that's it.

Wait a moment! You are beautiful…

Elena Zhambalova

I recognize and bless.
Today you and I are united.
On the magical colored tram
maybe to Mecca or Medina,

it's all in your head, good one,
it's all in your head, hostile,
this song of my road,
this healing thought of mine

drink, don't darken your eyes,
our tram sometimes shakes,
we choose our own routes
or they choose us.

I don't know, I'm 30 soon,
I'm still childish
I can bang my head
at the same doors, and even strongly.

And while you haven't left yet,
although hidden in the device screen -
I love you, my ex-friend.
Smile.

"Monkey Brothers"

I've never played a game without rules
But for some reason it turned out like this -
Leaving his native harbor forever,
The frigate of love raised the pirate flag.

The frigate of love is captured by corsairs,
And the wind-pain carries him aground
Waves of tears across the ocean of crying
On the last journey over the reefs of betrayal.

The battle was lost and the team was captured,
As a captain, I'm thrown overboard.
And the bitterness of tears corrodes my tonsils,
I can't believe that love is over.

I can't believe that you are in captivity of depravity,
What time spent with you,
Spent on building a frigate
With such an unpredictable fate.

The frigate flew swiftly onto the rocks,
I went to the bottom, blowing bubbles,
You stood at the stern thoughtfully
And dissolved in the glow of dawn.

Tatiana Bezridnaya

Doomedly I will expose my lips to the wind,
biting kisses, like slaps.
There are eternal kilometers between us,
well-wishers, gossip, guesses, rumors.

What do I know? I do not know anything
about you and the world beyond myth...
Nothing, alas, will happen to us
except for the shadow of a brief half-moment:

Time problems, contact failures,
and the car will stand in the dust of the road,
and I will no longer be acquaintances: “How are you?” —
casually ask carefully...

Well, if I pay anyone, it won’t be you: you know, all this is nonsense, vanity and trouble, and the thought that it’s soon forty, and again oatmeal for breakfast, red borscht for lunch, and, as always on Saturday, buns with nonsense (choose: cinnamon, raisins, jam), I’m blind without glasses, I can’t see you, I’m no longer afraid to live with my misfortune. And if I ask for help, you don’t count, I’m not proud, I’m not at all, but I simply have nothing, the organ has not yet been born to turn to you, to shoulder this bitterness, rage, torment, sadness, guilt: everything that There is bad on earth - because of me! - It’s worth spitting nothing, going to the bottom, just who to leave these lines to? Not for you, don’t be afraid, live as you are, accept, fall in love, get excited, like, don’t think about me, I’ll be here, still in the same place, go to sleep, don’t cry.

Pyotr Lodygin

Dedication

You are my sky. You are my soil. You are my candle stub.
Powdered overnight. Fall asleep at night. Red brick colors.
It's hopeless outside. On the road indefinitely. Anyone who has fallen must lie down.
Happiness in the form of a horseshoe. The size of a horseshoe. From granite and marble slabs.
Touch it carefully. Feel carefully. Look at me carefully.
In the very heart of separation. In the very heart of separation. The hole is covered in ice.
Immaculate, my angel. Not durable. Lanterns were raised on poles.
The light outside is flickering. And it goes out outside. And it blinks and goes out inside.
Bricks by bricks. Lanterns by lanterns. Wormwood is wormwood.
The body will leave the house. The mind will leave the body. Life will pass you by.
Don't be sad, my angel, don't be sad. Go to sleep. Forget about sadness.
I'm certainly not heaven. Of course not the soil. I'm certainly not a candle.

I'm in plaid, and you're in polka dots.

The property of water is to go into sand,
Love - imitate the shape of a circle.

The whole day I was diligently melted into the asphalt
Now a hidden source of light.
A circle can fit perfectly into a square,
The man evades the answer.

Calm down. Deep breath.
Life is beautiful, elastic in its properties.
I'm in plaid, and you're in polka dots.
We are obviously made for each other.

Irina Kutuzova

How long did it take for us to overcome them?
These hazy, short, cold days,
For June to say: “Let the night disappear!”
And everything that was pressing disappeared with her!

How long do we need to endure the heat of the furnace?
How many difficult losses to go through,
So that in the end you can chain the keys out of happiness,
And then match those keys to the door?

Don't love too much -
Common and wise advice,
As soon as you spread your wings -
You'll start blocking the light.

But, being dusty truth,
This line makes no sense:
Don't love too much -
Is it possible slightly?

Agrippina Pchelkina

Yes, honey, I'm humbled by you,
Trampled. Well, let's look at it differently:
Raised by love above the crowd
Unloving ones. Among their faces looms

Your slightly sad face
Shrouded in a fabulous glow.
Stories with a predictable ending
Nobody likes. If only I knew in advance,

What will be your indifference
So cruel and unbearable
I would like this cupid's spear
I didn’t agree to carry it in my chest.

I would enjoy the sun and flowers.
And I might never have known
That there is another kind of beauty,
That even pride means very little,

And, in general, reciprocity is not important,
As it was thought, for true feeling.
Your silence is not silence
It sounds. It's poignant and sad.