Poems for Valentine’s Day! Vladimir Nabokov About Love


Poems for Valentine’s Day, written by famous poet Vladimir Nabokov, February 14, you can give your loved one.

Poems for Valentine's Day
Poems for Valentine’s Day By famous writter Vladimir Nabokov’s about love

Her soul, as an extraordinary light

Her soul, as an extraordinary light
as white luster of marvelous doors
leads me. Come, secret artist,
brush and take it. VIEW color string fairy birds, fiery sign for all white, silent Svetlitsa her soul. Take on the brush with dew tea roses and red juice reveals the dawn. Come, love, sign, secret artist, dream, create.

I do not need lilies…

See also: Valentine’s Poems for Valentine’s Day By

Alexander Pushkin

I do not need lilies,
Innocent white lilies,
Not touched by fate and raised in the wilderness.
Obtained people, they always
Love storing cold and isolation of the soul.
I wish I red roses, I want roses in love,
I want; I wallow in a fragrant half asleep.
In their soft petals, love, rapture,
tenderness in their live, in their silk fire.
As the lily in front of her, before dark scarlet rose,
Rose Because I loved, and it is all mines,
She gives me, loved and suffered,
She’s my forever and lily – draw…

When you want, I’ll go

When you want, I’ll go,
Loss glorify sweet –
But blooming garden,
In the darkness of the pond you leave
A precious star

You will glance in the mirror pond
and tronesh moisture, and the movement of
the hands of unsuspecting star scared,
but the ripples subside, reflection
return again, whisper: I’m here … You will throw a stone, and again swell circular expanse worried. Oh, no, do not contradict the star, melt in the darkness can not my best beam, my love … Over moisture per tilt, so quietly you get used to the finest ring of fire, and suddenly realize vskriknesh and quietly and softly call me

I dreamed of you so often, so long ago

And a book about love, haze over the Neva River,
about bliss roses and misty
sea, I leafed through – and smelled your image
in verse enthusiastic and clean. The days of my youth, drunken dream land, I at this moment magically calls seemed pathetic, like gnats, that crept in the amber splendor on oilcloth … I called you. I was waiting for. As the years passed, I wandered along the slopes of a rocky life and in the bitter hours of your images are in verse, enthusiastic and pure. And now, in reality, you’re easy, come and remember superstitious as the profound consonance mirror you predicted correctly.

You’re much too much you want

You’re much too much you want!
Sad and loving greedy,
vain dreams you win prophesied
when he looks at you. Believe me, he loves a woman not more than poets like spring … He prays, he beckons, and the heart – in the wild and will only appreciate one!

And the sunsets and the stars and the rainbow of May –
will be your rival,
and on the night of rapture you hugging,
he remembers his first love. Let this love is fleeting, and accidentally touched a thing of … May! In front of him dreaming mystery to you inexplicable sadness … Then you will feel cold separation. Well done! Kiss and shut up, shine serene and heavenly sounds of it your turn rays! But you … you’re like my lord, stuffy potrebuesh victims from him, and he only sigh, indifferently depart – and never will – nothing …

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