Georgy Polonsky wrote:
...I did not expect deception from the book of wanderings,
I believed that in some chapter
He will come out of the fog towards you
Your shore in the weightless blue...
But there is an error in the ship's course!
Recently I see it clearly,
The Earth is spinning rapidly,
And you and I are not getting closer...
And nothing changes... first love remains first for life...
***
There was still an error in the course then,
Fate separated us from you.
And all the years have been lived differently.
What did you dream about that cherished spring...
The earth was spinning, we were floating away
With you we are further, further away from each other,
The ships have already dropped anchor,
Those ships were cut into pieces.
And we are still frantically looking for a course,
What will someday bring us together?
But life goes on, the resource runs out,
And we are divorced forever by fate!
L. Starshinova
Picture from the Internet
Reviews
This work (not even a poem) arose naturally, but Polonsky’s poem... this is my childhood, the film “We’ll Live Until Monday” it so happened that I had the honor of being at the premiere of this film... and so it remained my favorite movie...
Did you think that I was claiming something???
I am not so vain and am quite critical of my works
People, here we are relatives, I think - the most brilliant film of the 20th and 21st centuries... where else can you hear something like this - Happiness is when you are understood!!! Do not add do not subtract)
Yes! There were some great movies coming out these days!
In my opinion, those few seconds when the participants' eyes are shown on the screen... this is... a GENIUS move!
And no bloody scenes can convey everything that is read in those eyes...
Thank you for the dialogue
I completely agree... and remember how the teacher remembers Schmidt in the context of Dostoevsky - he could not believe in universal harmony if it was based on at least one tortured child...
To this day, a tiny number remember this piercing and terrible thought. After all, if there is no harmony, that is, God, then everything is permitted!!!
And you can kill, rape... that is, be beasts!
The daily audience of the portal Stikhi.ru is about 200 thousand visitors, who in total view more than two million pages according to the traffic counter, which is located to the right of this text. Each column contains two numbers: the number of views and the number of visitors.
A whole three rubles for me - No, I owe him for the rental... How much do you charge per hour, Kostya, huh? -Fool! -Yes, such jokes can even leave you without an eye -Psycho -You need treatment, Shestopalov... uh-huh. -You, like all shorties, have a sick pride -And you want it in the face? I can do it for you too - Go, go I was driving home, I was thinking about you, My thoughts were anxiously confused and torn I didn’t expect deception from the book of travels, I believed that in some chapter he would come out of the fog towards you - your shore in the weightless blue... but there is an error in the ship’s course! Lately I’ve been seeing this clearly - the earth is spinning rapidly, but you and I are not getting any closer -More -And you’ve begun to write better... More artistically -Well, okay, we have to go -Otherwise someone will come dragging along and shouting -A there is no one at school - And that doesn’t happen... even at night there is someone - And just imagine that there is no one except us - Just please, don’t hope that I melted from your poems - But I don’t hope. .. I’m not such a utopian anymore - And in general they are not written for that - Okay to lie - My job is to warn - You and I will never succeed - You see... - You, Genochka, are little... - That’s who I am in the seventh grade I was like you now - Do you want the truth? -Well? - In my mind, I know that you are a person... so-so... - Not a ray of light in a dark kingdom - Please tell me... - I know that... - I just try not to take it into account - What, what? - You won’t understand, unfortunately, - I only understood this myself the day before yesterday - Well, what did you understand... the day before yesterday? -That a person needs a state of falling in love with someone or something... always... all the way - Otherwise, life is not interesting - Well, the easiest thing for me is to fall in love with you. Without fish... -And you don’t care how I treat you? - No - That doesn’t change the matter - If only there was this same spring inside - So you can assume that I’m not in love with you... - But, let’s say, with Cherevichkina... - What... poetry, I suppose, is it easier to write? Well, dedicate them now... Cherevikina -Good luck (good luck) -Natasha -To model various creative processes determined by abilities, inclinations -And, finally, a person’s talent - a daring task, but doable -In my hands the notes are music written by an electronic composer -Don’t be surprised, of course, the tasks for this electronic composer were set by a man -You can see for yourself the merits of these works -There will probably be TV viewers who will say: “A machine is not capable of experiencing human emotions, and they are what make up the soul music" - But, first of all... But, first of all, we need to define exactly what human emotion, soul and man himself are - Will he really define it? - And, secondly,... the music offered to you is, after all, not Mozart - And thank you for that - Everything has cooled down, I guess - Mom... give me some vodka - Yes, here’s some strange dispatch for you I arrived, I signed for it The program "New in Music" is over In a few minutes we will continue the story about the hockey match and turn on the Sports Palace- Dear Comrade Melnik, I don’t have time to come to you and, therefore, I am forced to contact you in writing - My daughter systematically receives C grades in your subject, this is surprising and alarming - After all, history is not mathematics, you don’t need to be a genius here - I personally... they personally... checked Lyuba on paragraphs 61 to 65 and I think that she can be given a rating of 4 (good). I suggest you check my daughter again on these paragraphs. Potekhin - A major specialist - And all this on official paper, he didn’t even spend money on paper - Why are you worried, you yourself said that if a person is stupid, then for a long time - Voltaire said that, not me. Mom, he’s not so stupid - He’s inspired by... memories - Yes... look what I found - Vanya Kovalev. Do you remember they wrote about him? Outstanding physicist - I remember, I remember... - Mom, thank you... I don’t feel like it anymore - Is it drizzling again? -Mom, haven’t you noticed that there is some hopelessness in impersonal sentences? - It’s drizzling... windy... it’s getting dark... - Do you know why? -No one to complain about -And no one with
The garden is again covered with leaves.
Tears of rain knock on the night
........................................on the roof.
Leaving a trace, the old day passes.
And fate will write a new one, without you.
And the shadow of the past years is ever longer,
and you and I are not getting any closer!
An autumn tear cannot erase a memory!
And you can’t calm the melancholy in the niche of your heart!
We are destined to grow old apart,
without ever getting closer to the falling leaves!
I've been looking for you for many years in a row!
It’s autumn again, but I foresee it again, -
I'm sentenced -
................... "the addressee has dropped out"...
And the pain echoes - “We are not getting closer!”
How to sing songs with a broken string?!
How can I survive in this world without you?!
The leaves are falling again... And who is to blame?
Why aren’t you and I getting closer?!
The garden is again covered with leaves.
And the heart beats quieter every year.
Everything is as it was then, many years ago,
but you and I are not getting closer!
And you and I are not getting closer...
Tags:
Comments
Thank you very much! I myself understand that this is not ideal option). I composed a poem 5 minutes ago and immediately posted it, but I’ll think about this line some more. Unfortunately, there are almost no suitable rhymes at all). I bow.
And why should I write this earthly path? I can’t write anything for the sake of a catchphrase or rhyme, I have to write for the sake of meaning, but here the meaning is too sad, everything cries, everything pours, a little more cheerful and it will be yes! Don’t forget that words come true .
24.12.2005, 01:55
I bring to your attention very unusually beautiful and meaningful poems by an English poet named W.H. Auden
Send everything too!!
Some say that Love's a little boy
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round
And some say that’s absurd::silly:
But when I asked the man next door
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife was very cross indeed
And said it wouldn’t do.
Does it look like a pair of pajamas
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas
Or has it a comforting smell?
O tell me the truth about love.
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is
Or soft as eiderdown fluff,
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.
I looked inside the summerhouse,
It wasn't ever there
I've tried the Thames at Maidenhead
And Brighton's bracing air;
I don't know what the blackbird sang
Or what the roses said,
But it wasn’t in the chicken run
Or underneath the bed.
Can it pull extraordinary faces,
Is it usually sick on a swing?
O tell me the truth about love.
Does it spend all its time at the races
Or fiddling with pieces of string,:fan:
O tell me the truth about love.
Has it views of its own about money,
Does it think Patriotism enough,
Are their stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.
Your feelings when you meet it,
I am told you can't forget
I’ve sought it since I was a child
But haven’t found it yet;
I'm getting on for thirty five,
And still I don't know
What kind of creature it can be
That bothers people so.
When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it knock on my door in the morning
Or thread in the bus on my toes?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it come like a change in the weather,
Will its greeting be courteous or bluff,
Will it alter my life altogether?8)
O tell me the truth about love.:appl:
24.12.2005, 20:57
Britten set this poem to music.
Soprano: Tatyana Kuindzhi, piano: A. Goribol
Http://download.orst.ru/tk/love.mp3
25.12.2005, 21:21
Ja prekrasno znaju pro Brittena - sam akkompaniruju zavtreva8)
28.12.2005, 15:57
And although not about love, but about beauty (in Pasternak’s translation, about the beautiful), the poems, in my opinion, are good.
A THING of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkle of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring us from the heaven’s brink.
J. Keats. Endymion, part 1.
09.02.2008, 16:20
09.02.2008, 16:54
While rewatching the film “We'll Live Until Monday,” I came across poems that a boy reads to a girl through a closed door:
I didn’t expect deception from the book of wanderings.
I believed that in some chapter
He will swim out of the fog to meet, -
Your shore in the weightless blue!
But there is a mistake in the design of the ship, -
Recently I see this clearly:
The Earth is spinning rapidly,
And you and I are not getting closer...
Who can say whose poems these are? In my opinion, very good.
Attention! Editing a message is only possible as long as it is the last one in the topic.
Send! (http://javascript:SubmitEd() | Cancel (http://javascript:CancelEd()
While reviewing the "branches", I came across this (see above).
You, this.. that!.. Copy more carefully! Don’t scare the local people: this is on the site beatles.ru “...editing a message is possible only as long as it is the last one in the topic,” but here you can edit at least a hundred times and whenever you want!.. :-)
09.02.2008, 17:13
So, in essence, you can’t say anything?
09.02.2008, 17:33
You know it yourself: if the poems were of a more or less famous poet, the surname would be indicated in the credits. You need to carefully look at the credits: if there is nothing about the author of these poems, options are possible: were the poems written specifically for the film by the screenwriter? director? friend of one or the other? someone else...
Google, I assume you've already looked through it? Did you give anything on this issue?
Look here:
Http://www.songkino.ru/songs/dozhiv_pon.html
About those poems that a boy reads to a girl - alas, nothing...
In style, it looks like poems about a tit and a crane... Therefore, we can make the assumption that these poems are also by Georgy Polonsky...
09.02.2008, 18:01
You know it yourself: if the poems were of a more or less famous poet, the surname would be indicated in the credits...
However, in Soviet times sometimes in the film credits they might not indicate everyone who made one or another contribution to the work on the film...
Find, for example, Alla Pugacheva in the credits of "The Irony of Fate..."
Thanks for Polonsky. These poems are actually included directly in the text of the film script.
09.02.2008, 18:29
Find, for example, Alla Pugacheva in the credits of "The Irony of Fate..."
I'm not going to look for her last name there. I know that this name is not there.
09.02.2008, 18:33
Thanks for Polonsky. These poems are actually included directly in the text of the film script.
Cheers! :-)
There’s no point in constantly changing your “signatures”!.. :-?
That first “signature” of yours (“...By the time you figure it all out, you’ll find yourself to blame for everything...”) - it suited you very well... :-)
Luke Dr. Tepes
11.02.2008, 23:41
Yo dije que me gustaba
-ella me estuvo escuchando-
que, en primavera el amor
fuera vestido de blanco.
Alzo sus ojos azules,
y se me quedo mirando,
con una triste sonrisa
en los virginales labios.
Siempre que cruce su calle,
al ponerse el sol de mayo,
estaba, seria, en su puerta,
toda vestida de blanco.
(Juan Ramon Jimenez)
I just said one day-
she managed to hear -
I like it in the spring
love dressed in white.
Blue eyes raised,
looked with a reliable unsteadiness,
and only children's lips
glowed with a sad smile.
Since then, when across the square
I was walking at sunset in May,
she stood at the door
serious, in a white dress.
(translated by N. Vanhanen)
28.08.2008, 18:09
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere)
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it"s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that"s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
E.e. cummings
10.09.2008, 01:02
Snowflakes are falling, the gentle cold is melting...
Snowflakes are falling on my tracks.
And it already seems like there’s no city around,
And forests and groves, rivers and ponds.
What is this? Isn't it a dream? This is the sound of a tram...
What is this? Isn't it a dream? The car is honking...
No, the wind rushed by, shaking the tree,
The footprint in the snow is deep...What is this, what?
Where is reality, where is my dream? The branches have turned black,
And between them - the seal of the sun on the trunks...
The noise of the crowd is as if there is wind in our grove,
The sound of happy steps...Is it time to be bored?
I’m going to the club... From the portrait - a kind glance towards me.
"What did you do?" - he asks again.
That I study at a party school, I will answer him,
That my path is illuminated by his covenant.
Lenin will smile. I will be diligent
Listen to what the Central Committee tells us in the letter,
And it’s as if my forehead is being stroked tenderly
Warm, dear Lenin's hand.
(Victor Sosnora, 1927)
I really like the images of confusion here - the honking car and the ringing of the tram. Well, this final stroking of the forehead is a brilliant find. No trifles. Because love.
11.09.2008, 16:33
Any creature has dignity,
There are reflections of the holy in everything.
Both the earthly world and heaven
I love because everything is Christ’s!
I. Roman
11.09.2008, 16:42
What is stopping Hieromonk Roman from writing?:-?
Alisa Nazarova
28.03.2010, 09:58
I accidentally came across a website dedicated to the film “We’ll Live Until Monday” and this is what I found:
Crane.
Sl. - G. Polonsky
Music - K.Molchanov
(Only poetry is heard in the film)
This is not a lie, not a fable:
Others saw, I saw,
How to tame a stupid tit
They tried to transform a crane.
So that he doesn’t see the blue distance
And don't leave the ground
The crane was roughly ringed
And they put a note in the journal.
Hid in the closet, tied the wings
The white bird of my happiness.
So that she breathes warm dust
And I didn’t notice anything.
But it’s not for nothing that the bird grew stronger in the sky -
Fools remained fools.
A broken cage, a pile of ashes,
And the crane is in the clouds again.
I'm on fire.
How much flour
Holy sounds
They're hitting me!
But by grated force
I'll tell everything to hell.
Come to me.
Sergey Yesenin
31.03.2010, 22:29
Mikhail Shcherbakov (http://megalyrics.ru/about/mikhail-shcherbakov.htm) - Cherry jam
La, la, la...
Now on the pier the crowd is chattering and applauding.
A ship came from distant countries - the whole city was waiting for it.
Every face glows with delight, and every gaze sparkles with delight,
Fireworks thunder, the gangway sighs, the sailors go to the pier.
The radiance of glory blinds them, they are excited by the ringing of regalia,
They have long had a stunning story ready, -
How they did not spare their lives and sacredly guarded their honor,
And everyone has gone through and surpassed and realized better than us.
You know, I can’t resist, I’ll run to admire it,
I'll be gone for a while, I'll go to the celebration.
Well, how long can I stay with you day and night?
And admire you day and night - and nothing more.
After all, we are two steps from the sea, and the noise of the crowd is so clearly audible.
I hear the roar of the waves, I listen to the firing of cannons...
And you laugh at me, you eat cherry jam,
And you don’t believe me a penny, and I don’t believe myself.
This is how year after year goes by, pandemonium reigns all around.
And century after century is dissolved in the cycle of vanity.
And you're terribly busy - you're eating cherry jam,
And no one on earth eats it more beautifully than you.
The bend of the divine hand is always the same, and forever new,
And in the spoon the berry glistens, not reaching the mouth.
Not blood, not tears, not wine - just cherry juice,
But I won’t leave you: nowhere, and never!
Ge-en! - Kostya called Genka, who did not go with everyone, but to the stairs of the other wing. - Gena-tsvale!
Genka stopped. Rita and Kostya approached him.
Well, why are you so worried? - Rita asked him, affectionately, as it seemed to him.
“It’s not worth it, Gen,” Kostya supported her. - Don’t you know the damned egg theory? Look at everything through it, it helps.
Listen, everyone come to me. I'm finishing up the tape recorder - can you help me edit it? A?
I don't want to.
I'll feed you! And there will be a bottle of dry. Think.
No, I'm home.
“And I know what you want,” Kostya narrowed his eyes.
So that I can set sail now, and Ritka stays with you. Did you guess right? - And realizing from the hardening of Genka’s cheekbones that he had guessed right, Kostya laughed, pleased. - So it’s possible, we’re not greedy people, right, Rit?
He looked inquisitively in turn - first into Ritka’s, cheerful and green, and then into Genka’s dark, unfriendly eyes. Rita was attacked by a fit of laughter - she began to burst into tears:
Genka, agree, otherwise he will change his mind!...
Only, of course, one condition: do not enter the entrances and do not open the rakes. Is it coming? Take a walk, talk... Or maybe go to the cinema. Why are you silent?
Genka stood there, curled his lips, and finally squeezed out an absurd answer:
And I have no money.
And it’s not necessary, why? - Rita was surprised. - I have three rubles and change.
No. I owe him... for rental. How much do you charge per hour, Kostya? - Genka said slowly, angrily and quietly.
Rita gasped:
Well, you know! - and slapped him in the face. - Bastard! Crazy... Better stay away!
Yes... - Kostya Batishchev drawled, stunned. - For such jokes, this is still not enough... Next time they will clean your beak like this... You need to be treated, Shestopal! You, like all shorties, have a sick pride!
Rita's tears did not flow, but her forehead and nose turned red, she blew upward, chasing away her blonde locks - and clicked her heels down the stairs.
Genka, leaning against the wall, looked at the ceiling.
You, Genochka, cannot withstand a blow. So learn to lose - so that at least you don’t lose face... Otherwise it’s disgusting!
With disgusted annoyance, Kostya kicked Genkin’s briefcase standing on the floor. And he started to catch up with Rita.
...When Genka walked leisurely towards the gym, he discovered that Kostya was now in trouble: Rita had secluded herself there, in an empty, unlit hall, her “bodyguard” was trying to get her out of there, tearing the door open... The door gave way, and Rita - No:
And you want it in the face? I can do it for you too! - she shouted in serious anger. And the door in front of his nose - slam!
From a distance, Kostya looked at Genka, spat and left.
...The gym switch was outside. After some hesitation, Genka turned on the light for Rita. She looked out and turned it off - out of principle. He turned it on again. She turned it off again.
The mood on both sides of the door was equally gloomy. Rita moved the “goat” to the door, sat on it for stability, singing in the twilight: “I was driving home... I was thinking about you... My sad thought was confused and torn...”
And then she suddenly heard poetry!
...I did not expect deception from the book of wanderings,
I believed that in some chapter
He will come out of the fog towards you
Your shore in the weightless blue...
But there is an error in the ship's course!
Recently I see it clearly
The Earth is spinning rapidly,
And you and I are not getting closer...
Silence.
Still... - Rita said quietly, but commandingly.
And Natasha and Melnikov walked again - already among the evening crowd, against the backdrop of illuminated shop windows... For most, a non-working Saturday had already begun. And these two acted as if they had a day off tomorrow. They trampled their feet very thoroughly!
From the other side of the street they joyfully chanted:
Na!-ta!-sha!
Natasha looked around: five young, cheerful, well-dressed people were standing near the Operetta Theater. Two girls, three guys.
Natasha, her eyes sparkling, apologized to Melnikov:
I'm now...
And she ran to the other side.
Melnikov stood, smoked, and watched.
Natasha chatted animatedly with her institute classmates. Laughter. Questions. She delayed her answers, was evasive, and they were impatient to give out two or three “blocks of information” of the most urgent nature. Something touched her closely... (in vain she makes a studiously detached face when mentioning individual names). And the coolest thing would be to lure Natasha with you to a hospitable house, where it will probably be great, where she will be welcome, but there is an obstacle - “grandfather”, a gray-haired, bespectacled man unknown to them on the opposite side...
The trolleybus stopped and blocked Melnikov from Natasha.
When she, explaining something to her friends, turns in his direction, the trolleybus is no longer there, but neither is Melnikov.
Still not believing, Natasha looks at where she left it...
What happened, Natasha? - asks one of the guys, noticing her dull gaze, her half-open mouth...
They were now alone in the gym - Rita and Genka. It seems that he has already been forgiven - thanks to the poems.
Rita jumped off the "goat".
“You’ve become a better writer,” she concludes. - More artistic. - And takes the briefcase. - We have to go. Now someone will come and shout...
There is no one at school.
At all? This doesn’t happen, even at night there is someone.
Both listened. It looks like everyone really left... Quiet. No, one nanny shouted something to the other, and again quietly...
And just imagine that there is no one but us... - said Genka, sitting on the uneven bars, - the drama of his short stature always pulled him higher...
Leaning her head on her shoulder and squinting, Rita said:
Please don’t hope that I’ve been warmed up and softened by your poems!
“I don’t hope,” Genka muttered dully. - I'm not such a utopian! - Suddenly he blushed and formulated the following hypothesis:
Poems in your honor are just a promise, right? Like an advance? After that - perfume will be from Paris, stockings, rags... maybe even sable! Only not from lip slaps, but from real fans? But who should we thank... for real?
For the sable! Of course! - She laughed. I was amused by the gloomy seriousness with which he predicted all this! He was almost losing weight before his eyes, imagining that “inclined plane” on which she was about to end up! Hilarious...
Do you seem to be scaring me? Will I have to do something scary? Immoral?! What can’t you say?! Mommies... Or is the only fear that all this is not with you?!
...It looks like he insulted her without understanding it? Otherwise, why would she respond with such bastardism? Yes, apparently, that “inclined plane” was somewhat vague for him, which is why he went too far... But her tone is no longer biting, but admonishing:
My job, Genochka, is to warn you: you and I will never succeed... You are probably childish to me. Too small. It’s not about height, don’t think about it... no, in general somehow. I was like you in seventh grade!…
Suddenly Genka tensed up and announced:
Do you want the truth? Intellectually, I know that you are a so-so person. Not “a ray of light in a dark kingdom”...
Tell me please! You take revenge right away, right? - Rita flushed.
“...I know that,” Genka continued, squinting, “I just try not to take it into account.” The soul - you know, it develops its own defensive tactics... Simply - so as not to get bloody every day...
What?
Unfortunately, you won't understand. I only realized this myself the day before yesterday...
He turned away and seemed completely absorbed in the difficult task of how to get from the beams across the window sill to the rings. From the uneven bars - because he would never have been able to jump to them from the ground. Even for her sake, probably...
It's done! Hanged. I pulled myself up.
