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I have been given flaming bladeTo pierce night and fight with shade,And it is glowing with that fireThe source of which is my desire.


It has seen war, it knows of peace,It chopped heads, it burned grease,And it executed swift death,For some it's curse, for others bless.


It has severed diseased limbs,It has exposed others’ sins,It was a torch for ones in dark,Cut out exit to those stuck.


It settled disputes in the world,It used to touch the right heart's chord,Its clang alone can make heart brave,And it is lost for those who rave.


It is engulfed in the flameAnd thus can make its wielder lame,It brings uncommon sort of fameWhich clears heart and grants no shame.


Yes, I can feel its heat in hands ...This blade has traveled many landsAnd many battles it has seen,Those armed with it destined to win.


It's a reflection of a Word,Which always touches rightist chordAnd purifies its victim's heart ...Eternal justice, friend and guard.

03.12.2009

Man Of Many Names

I don't know why I feel I amOnce lived through all of this - and thenI have forgotten who I was,Who were my friends, who were my foes,


How I was called, and how I died ...This feeling does constantly bite,But still my memory is mist ...It's like I start with empty list.


And yet some sparks of former lifeFeel very old the time I diveInto reflection of myself -And this makes squeeze my soul nerve.


I feel I once had many names ...Are these but dreams, just madness games?I might have gone completely mad,But these feelings long have bred.


I worn them all, they were like clothesFor man with many names I wasAnd many faces I once had ...I am, no doubt, truly mad.


How one can live the endless lifeAnd pass through death ... and still survive?And still in times remember thatAnother own name he had?


They are all mine, I once were them,All these persons in the pram,Like were-man I always shift ...Is it a curse, is it a gift?


Is there is one beyond them allThat is my only truly goal,The one, who never had the name,The Nameless One ... are we the same?


I will remember once them allFor this is only worthy goal ...The time will come, I'll pass through flamesTo be the Man Of Many Names.

04.05.2008

Phoenix

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Роберт Рождественский заявил о себе громко, со всей искренностью обращаясь к своим сверстникам, «парням с поднятыми воротниками», таким же, как и он сам, в шестидесятые годы, когда поэзия вырвалась на площади и стадионы. Поэт «всегда выделялся несдвигаемой верностью однажды принятым ценностям», по словам Л. А. Аннинского. Для поэта Рождественского не существовало преград, он всегда осваивал целую Вселенную, со всей планетой был на «ты», оставаясь при этом мастером, которому помимо словесного точного удара было свойственно органичное стиховое дыхание. В сердцах людей память о Р. Рождественском навсегда будет связана с его пронзительными по чистоте и высоте чувства стихами о любви, но были и «Реквием», и лирика, и пронзительные последние стихи, и, конечно, песни – они звучали по радио, их пела вся страна, они становились лейтмотивом наших любимых картин. В книге наиболее полно представлены стихотворения, песни, поэмы любимого многими поэта.

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Поэзия / Лирика / Песенная поэзия / Стихи и поэзия