Есенин - О красном вечере задумалась дорога... - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

About the red evening the road was thinking

Bushes of ripper foggy depth.

Izba old woman jaw threshold

Chews the odorless mealki silence.

Autumn cold gently and meek

Mulgar steals to oat yard;

Through blue glass yellow-haired tags

Lucky eyes on a check mark.

Hugging the pipe, sparkles on

The ash is green out of a pink oven.

Somehow no, and thin wind

About someone whispers, thickened in the night.

Someone's heels no longer mine on groves

Plumbed leaf and grass gold.

Drawing sigh, diving with skinny,

Kisses the beak of the Owl.

All the thick of the cramps, in Khlevu Pochka and Drema,

White road Slipky moat ...

And gently whipping barley straw,

Walking from lips nodding cows.

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Master of the landscape lyrics, Sergey Yesenin always identified himself with nature, believing that it was an integral part. That is why in his verses dedicated to the native land, images of loved ones since childhood places are closely intertwined with personal experiences. Early leaving Eahl Konstantinovo, where his childhood passed, the poet for all his life returns to mentally, and his memories are displayed in very bright and figurative verses.

In 1916, Yesenin wrote a poem "On the Red Supper, the road was thought of ...", which replenished the collection of the works of the author dedicated to the native land. The poet with the inherent figurativeness and romanticism managed to capture the change of the time of the year and show how beautiful the beautiful autumn comes. She is leisurely and exquisite in its perfection, and with each moment the world around the world is literally transformed, filling the evening silence with new sound. "The autumn cold is affectionate and meekly mild is mild to oat yum", "the poet notes, admiring the twilight descending on the ground, which gives unusual freshness and coolness. The days are still warm, however, evenings bring with them the first smells of autumn. "Hugging the pipe, sparkles on the tag green from a pink oven," this line indicates that the nights are already cold, and the peasants are forced to prodap the huts.

Meanwhile, life in the village is going on with his own man, and few people remember that a blonde boy who once loved to sit in front of the window and watch the "hashing game". However, the Torvan himself, who has long been transmitted to the famous poet, not only remembers that happy time, but also regrets that he can no longer return anything. "Someone's heels can no longer mine on the groves a pinned leaf and grass of herbs," Esenin states with sadness, realizing that childhood passed, and the adult life was not at all so joyful.

However, most of all Yesenin is oppressed by the fact that in his absence, life in Konstantinovo continues to flow measuringly and calmly, as if nothing happened. All the same "nestly snout barley straw, hanging from the lips of nodding cows", and in the forest "the dragging sigh, diving with a skinny, kisses the beak of the Owl." But before the gold-haired boy, who loved the rhyme words so much, I walked the first zadira on the village, no one business. Only the "thin wind about someone whispers, which threw off in the night," and this whisper is given to pain in the poet's soul.