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but) rebels

I

Yet the law does not harden,
country noise, as a storm.
He lashed over the limit boldly
Poison us freedom.

Russia! Heart cute edge!
The soul shrinks from the pain.
barnyard singing, swarms barking
Already ten years not to hear the field.

Already ten years, our quiet life
Lost peace verbs.
As smallpox, wells hoofs
Pitted pastures and valleys.

Nemolchnый ​​cannon, loud groan,
Squeal carts and carts.
Can it be true I sleep and dreaming,
What spears from all sides
We are surrounded by the Pechenegs.

Do not sleep! Do not sleep! I see vyave
No deep sleep, eyes
how, horses floating swimming,
Troops gallop for Detachment.

where they? And where the war?
Steppe FeRh does not heed the word.
I do not know, Whether the moon shines
Ile rider dropped horseshoe.
All went awry. But realized glance:
Country native to the region from the edge,
Fire and swords flashing,
Internecine strife tearing.

II

Who is not looking for the mercy of the strong,
He was always recklessly.
My poetic ardor
I honor, like the bold freedom.
Ukraine! Scary wonderful ringing.
The poplar trees, snowdrop in bloom.
Where he rolled,
You alarmed rebel?

mischievous genius! he me
Carries on all of its figure.
is he, cleverly vsprygnuv horse,
[Years old<ит?>]

b) excerpt

But that there is a vague tremor?
Whether the wind rustles the rye
Or moving human host,
Can it be true awakened Zaporozhye
Again on Poles, fight,
Shall the voice of former glory
Stir former Sich
Direct march on Warsaw,
To win il all be killed,
Ile tatarvy fierce raid
Once the country gets a gap,
Or a vision of Mazepa
He runs with the Swede abroad?
Neither one - nor is it.
A terrible year,
Eighteenth year in the history of.
Then he loomed gun
Nearly every plateau,
And almost every village
On the other village war led.
Here in battles, brutally ogoltelыh,
chopped red, beaten white
For proviantovыy robbery,
for this, so as not to trample rye.
………………………………………
Farmers! Yes, a railway deal
Peasants in the world before the war.
They only used their field buzzing,
To economy was intact,
As the prosperity of the country.
innocent people, good-natured,
He has all power naughty,
He knows what, the city - knave,
Where is the gift of drink, where gift guzzle,
Where are all the bread was being taken,
With all threatening violence,
Him without allowing any nail.

at) An excerpt from the "walk box"

Crying irresponsible Annoyance,
Do not praise the Muse voice troubles.
From mednolayuschih swingers
Salute last Duden, given,
Togo, who lived - it is no longer.

He is no, who was with glory,
For happiness the oppressed,
Who speech proud, nearly burr,
How underwhelming lava,
Universe to subsoil shook ...

There was a time of brutal years,
We are cherishing evil clutches.
On ills peasant field
Bloomed imperial satraps.
Monarchy! Zloveshtiy stink!
For centuries, they were feasts for feast,
And sells power aristocrat
Industrialists and bankers.
people moaning, and the horror
The country is waiting for somebody.
And he came.
He is a powerful word
He took us all to the origins of the new.
He told us: "To end the meal,
Take it all in the hands of workers.
For you there is no more salvation,
How is your power and your Council ".
And we went, We went to the goal,
Where his eyes were,
Let's go there, where he saw
The release of all the tribes ...
And so he died.
crying tedious.
Do not praise the Muse voice troubles.
From mednolayuschih swingers
Salute last Duden, given,
Togo, who saved us - no more.

g) An excerpt from the poem

Yet the law is not cured,
country noise, as a storm.
He lashed over the limit boldly
Poison us freedom.

Russia! Heart cute edge!
The soul shrinks from the pain.
How many years does not hear the field
barnyard singing, swarms barking.

How many years of our quiet life
Lost peace verbs.
As smallpox, wells hoofs
Pitted pastures and valleys.

Nemolchnый ​​cannon, loud groan,
Squeal carts and carts ...
Can it be true I sleep and dreaming,
What spears from all sides
We are surrounded by the Pechenegs?

Do not sleep! Do not sleep! I see vyave,
No deep sleep, eyes,
how, horses floating swimming,
Troops gallop for Detachment.

where they? And where the war?
Steppe Vod does not heed the word.
I do not know, Whether the moon shines

Ile rider dropped a shoe ...
All went awry. But realized glance:
Country native to the region from the edge,
Fire and swords flashing,
Internecine strife tearing.
…………………………………….
……………………………………..
Russia! Scary wonderful ringing!
The trees - birch, in flowers - snowdrop.
Where he rolled,
You alarmed rebel?

scientist rebel, he kepi,
Vskormlonny spirit alien countries,
On the face of the Kirghiz steppe Kaisatsk
looks, as the Russian bully.

this image, liberty sung,
And say,
That no one fired up:
Though not always, but there are portraits,
In that he is a poet mil.

Those we love.
Well, and in general,
Fame is not a serious potopchem.

austere genius, it me
Involves not keeping fit,

He did not sit on a horse
And I did not fly toward the storm.

Spur of the moment he did not head chopped,
I do not pay to escape infantry.
One thing he loved in the murder -
quail hunting.

For us, conditions became a hero.
We love those, in black masks,
And he snotty kids
In winter ride on a sled.

And he did not wear the hair,
That is poured on the success of women languishing,–
He has a bald head, as a tray,
He looked modest from the most humble.

Shy, simple and cute,
He kind of sphinx in front of me.
I can `t get it, By what power
He managed to shake the globe to?
But he shook ......
……………………………………
Schumacher and Wei,
Spin fiercer, disaster,
Washes away with the unfortunate people
Shame forts and churches.

There was a time of brutal years,
We are cherishing evil clutches.
On ills peasant field
Bloomed imperial satraps.

Monarchy! Zloveshtiy stink!
For centuries, they were feasts for feast,
And sells power aristocrat
Industrialists and bankers.
people moaning, and the horror
The country is waiting for somebody.
And it came ........
…………………………………….
He is a powerful word
He took us all to the origins of the new.

He told us:
"To end the meal,
Take it all in the hands of workers.
For you there is no more salvation -
How is your power and your Council ".

And we went to a screeching blizzard,
Where his eyes were,

Let's go there, where he saw
The release of all the tribes ...

……………………………………..
……………………………………..

And so he died.
crying tedious.
Do not praise the Muse voice troubles.
From mednolayuschih swingers
Salute last Duden, given,
Togo, who saved us,
No more.

He is no!
and this, Who will take,
and this, whom he left,
Country in a raging flood
You must shackle in concrete.

They do not say:
"Lenin is dead!»
Their death did not lead to anguish ...

Even more severe and gloomy
They create his work.

The most popular verses Esenina:


All poems of Sergey Yesenin

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