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greencatina @ 2009-12-07T22: 06:00

Where are you going, time?
Do you have a goal?
Do you someone,
waiting for you at the end of
thy way?

hurry, time?
Does this make sense?
dost thou fear the timing
So, as we fear,
Death?

Maybe in the cafe, time?
Tea? Talk?
It is not that happiness -
forgetting their usual rhythm,
inhale deeply?

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leise_stimme @ 2009-11-13T02: 07:00

We have to zazhigalkin left too long exchange of views on the topic "Russia and the West." Mainly with the search for an answer to the question "Who is to blame" in their present complex relations. That would not annoy the owner of the journal, it is worth it to move from there.

"attitude toward the West and the United States has changed when the ruling RF tip realized that nobody in the West is not going to give them personally are no guarantees. Was then pulled out an already existing in society, "conservatism" and embarked on a postoenie "Sovereign democracy". Which was very positively received by the society, which in turn is also revealing - about the lack of public awareness common strategic interests (with NATO). That fear of losing the upper RF personal power ("oranzhizm as a mechanism), rather than concern for the welfare for the country - the reasons current conflicts with the West. "

And indeed, the legitimacy of power (and property) in the country is quite low. Planting can be virtually any official (And away from his property) - from the mayor of Moscow to the heads of the FSB, MVD, and (whisper) perhaps even the prime minister. At least, the internet exists enough of compromising and VV Putin, who has not (yet) no one is going to investigate. For membership in NATO requires a level of democratic development, at which a change of government and the ruling party is real, not merely a theoretical event. Which, of course, the Russian leadership to afford can not. He needs a milder version of the Iron Curtain, when the country feels itself surrounded by unfriendly neighbors nastoennymi, dreamy dismember her and take away all the minerals. In this hostile environment of society should closely unite around the Communist Party United Russia, the Prime Minister and the President, who tirelessly fought for the preservation of Russian statehood, and simultaneously protect the country from sliding into fascism and / or Stalinism.

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Wir sind wir




Das ist doch nur ein schlechter Lauf. So schnell geben wir doch jetzt nicht auf.

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greencatina @ 2009-09-24T23: 56:00

girl sitting on a bench,
Reads book,
Chews apple.
mangy cat on breast-band
sitting under an apple tree, imagining,
What Harnesses - a chain of pure gold.
cat named Newton.

hero admits the sea
Weathered boats,
on which he captained.
At sea - the storm.

girl blows a wave,
And so it floats, apple - in his left hand,
And in the apple - the whole world:
seven seed, three sailing and thought,
spinning on mochalistom language,
is about to mature, and - down,
on someone's head in late August of branches.

Girl looks into the foaming water:
Through her show through the letters,
And this view of the girl just get on the ball.

girl drops the stump -
smell of autumn, the urban dust.
Cote hard licks
neck impure colors.
sea swallows a gift and a humbling anger,
replaced by grace.
Hero expects a happy ending
Summer.

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only for this scene could love film. Before the fight, which will be the last.






Lord. I often spend their days engaged in postoeniem plans. But this is currently not scheduled. And I would just like to ask you about one. Do not let the courage to leave me.
For all that we have have thought, but I never thought of. For all that we had to say, but did not say anything. For all that we should have done and not done - I beg you, Lord, I'm sorry.


I met my father there. I met there my mother, my sisters and my brothers. I will meet there all of my ancestors from the beginning of time. They already call me, they ask me to take my place alongside them - there, behind the gates Valhaly where brave men live forever.

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greencatina @ 2009-08-23T22: 22:00

 And just now at night I had a dream that I had spoken with his creator. On a gray cliff we sat in the arms of the star of darkness. And the wind on my hands shook, and I said, but the Creator - silent Only sometimes quietly nodding to me, as if in a dream. But thoughts were flowing abundantly into the darkness: I'm all that he had expounded to him. The sky breathed and the stars were going somewhere beyond the edge of the earth. And there was so divinely beautiful world, What I could not resist and questions: - Do as created by one hand - What you am I? And quiet. Only time ringing in the night. And it appears again Creator smolchit Cause the wind - and he held his breath, waiting, what will happen, and the stars above us closed the circle ... And he smiled and said suddenly: that even creates light and darkness one cheering. And just now at night I dreamed that I spoke with his Maker, but he said nothing, but nodded in response, mysteriously weightless ... 

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Дурацкое - Foolish - Foolish

We - fools We kingdom of fools,
We - the people of strange language, and hobbies,
We - those who create the rules of the exceptions,
confusing all normal players,
It fools Law did not write -
What fool yourself write that law?

We - the fools we are - idiots, we are - fools,
We are not supposed to start,
So - you can safely put all at stake,
go all the bank raise the world out of nothing,
Walk expensive original,
Dear believing in dreams

We - the kingdom of fools we are - your all,
And if someone of you are tired, fell behind -
Come to us, we do everything from scratch -
laws of society, physics, nature,
And as Murphy - a hundred years as it is not in vogue,
because we all know: fools are always lucky,
And if the mind and kills someone,
What nonsense - all save.

We - the fools, we are the kingdom of fools,
We - the devils that we consist of variables,
Jesters and beggars, the legislators of the universe,
After all, if the law and wrote to us -
That he is such

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greencatina @ 2009-07-28T23: 21:00

I wonder if a bitter feeling of what is going on in my rather positive life is a bad custom, a feature of mind or a kind of illness ?
I wanted to post here lots of things - but had no time, and I don't know if I'll do it once - they were everyday and sad and cheerful ... There was a hypothesis that my sleepiness, my disability to think clearly, the feeling of being limited is just a kind of self-defence against this awful world. In childhood there was no such feeling. There were mistakes, lack of knowledge, but no limitedness, no feeling that something always slips away. And there was no bitterness. All worries were momentary. And now everything is allright, but if I only have time to speak to myself... I feel like being empty or so... Living false.
Or is it just growing up - when the thoughts themselves become sadder? I hope, not?
The other question is what on earth can be so frightening in this world, when I live as easy as if I play? When each doubt can be solved empirically without much harm to me? Who when could have scared me that I mix my words and cannot wake up on holiday? Isn't it a dream when one can do what one want? Can anyone answer searching questions?

What interests me - is a bitter after-taste of life when everything seems to be good, a bad habit, a train of people, a problem of the body, right?
I wanted to write a lot of entries, but am not come to it, and in most cases come, perhaps never - they were ordinary, bright, minor manner, and among them was a hypothesis that the eternal Schlä ; drowsiness, the highest dispersion, and other signs of the limitations of our possibilities, are simply a defense against something terrible in the world. It was the childhood, when there was no sense of limitation. There were, of course, mistakes, lack of knowledge, but not this sense of his own limitations, the feeling that something eludes me still. And there was no Nachgeschmäcke. There was momentary as with the specific reasons, not so that everything would be fine, but if I would remain with me alone, I see - into space, or something. I see something wrong.
Or is it a sign of the adults is not given, that something negative always appears in thinking? No, does not it?
The other question is - what a terrible may be things in this world when life is playful light? If any doubt can be solved easily everyday empirical, with no successor, except the results? Who and when I was so scared that I confuse the words and can not wake me up on holiday when it would be just easier to do because I can do what I want? Who can answer such questions?

Вот интересно, неприятный осадок от происхоящего in life, other things being successful - it's a bad habit, a character trait, the problem of the body, or what?
I immediately wanted to write a bunch of posts, but somehow not met and most likely not find the time at all - everyday, minor, gay, among them was a hypothesis that sonnlivost, inability to pack up and other signs of the ceiling over your head - it's a way to protect against something terrible in the world. After all, it was also his childhood, when there was no sense of a ceiling. Errors result of ignorance were a sense of their own narrow-mindedness, a sense that something floating away from you - was not. And the rain was not there either. It was momentary, with specific reasons, and not so good, but worth only to be left alone with him - and once empty, or something. Wrong somehow.
Or is it an indispensable sign of growing up that there's some negative makeweights to think? After all, there is it?
Another question - what could be so terrible in the world, if life was going somehow, even in just a toy? If lyuyuboe everyday question can be resolved empirically and did not get over it is nothing but the result of experience? Who and when my favorite time to scare that I confuse the words now and a holiday can not drive themselves out of bed, although it would seem, the time to do what you want - is not a celebration of life? There anyone here knows how to answer such questions?

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greencatina @ 2009-07-23T01: 31:00

Ana =)

girl goes down the Arbat,
young, almost baby,
sweet, like a painting,
Her eyes - as if frozen
In comparison with the eternal movement,
with the eternal domestic obsession -
girl in my dreams and excitements,
her not to fuss.

Beneath her feet are weaved
Cities, Space and the country.
What she stands with Unter den Linden
Turn on Nevsky Prospect?
She's a second-class trains
can cross oceans,
Exit Door in the galaxy
AND at the venue in time.

girl comes and dreams,
girl dreams of her prince charming,
To make sure overseas,
with indispensable wedding at the end ...
Girl with a smile of the Mona Lisa
bisecting the sea capital -
and meets again and again:
young, wayward princesses.

She does not believe in:
It would make sense - at first See,
She'd married - immediately, tomorrow,
She wanted happiness - here and now ...
far from the road winds,
Whatever tkni on the map - not next ...
girl goes and wonders,
and believes dreams at night ...

A Princess - clever duck -
all pushing long speeches.
She listens to them sensitively,
Trusting their rhetoric.
A Arbat falls in Montmartre,
And it goes down the evening,
and tired fawn
time to supposedly frozen eyes ...

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Мама.

You - quiet song of beds in a sleepless night,
you - the first in light of the beloved voice,
angry and gentle, dry and cheerful -
And the mother.

you - the smell of mushrooms and walks in the summer flowering fields,
you - taste of the road empty and warmed
scattered over the world with sunlight,
you - the life and earth.

you - morning in the kitchen, you - sweet biscuits, rolls and muffins,
You - splashes of fish running into the tub,
you - the sound of sneakers the rising early,
you - home.

you - our opponent in the interminable dispute,
you - a friend and comrade, you - the fulcrum,
you - our cross, and - A gift.
And wherever and with whomever, and however obstinate
We are - in the heart remain mum
special. Always.

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greencatina @ 2009-07-12T11: 02:00

As it happens, it is for others chutche than most to her. Certainly
notice, no doubt - to study, to those little things,
what lurks in the everyday lives of our ears,
From our view, the spirit of drowsiness,
the similarity of days,
for infidelity our speeches.

As it happened, she did not sing for myself, not singing someone else's -
No, it gradually becomes a mirror of our souls.
thin thread, transparent silver shadow
Extracts from the bottom of our unconfigured,
Our joy, sadness, smiles, doubt,
all our lives.

As it happened: she does not sing for myself, but hides inside
beauty of unselfishness, the magic of tenderness, a stellar song.
She can not open it - whimsical and affectionate -
But look:
It stopped tale
which may not be everyone to read.

Who knows what she sings when she home alone -
soft light from the window, and the attentive silence of stasis?
What she whispers per hour when gulok and empty room waiting for?
How much love in our sleepy eyes,
To convince her to tell everything
inattentive to us? ..

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greencatina @ 2009-06-19T09: 55:00

City, I will write You -
kaleidoscope of fantasy and mystery,
fine pattern of bright marbles lived fate
Within the walls of old houses,
Where home is worth the fuss,
Where no notice do not feel people look
your attentive from under the water.

City, I will write to you -
rustle of the waves of a century granite,
smell the wind,
Heaven, moody, as будто ребенок,
Терпким, как дым
От костерка на задворках, в тени
Здания школы.

Город, я напишу тебя -
Призвуком виденных снов
Утром, спросонок,
Легким
stab in the heart of an hour before dawn.

City, I'll draw your stained glass -
In the frame of the window inconspicuous building overlooking the courtyard,
echo thoughtfully leisurely steps next to the Chapel,
Striking sparks of broken mirrors, rivers and canals,
breath, deep washes away all that boiling,
whisper of water,
wipes out what did not recognize ...

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greencatina @ 2009-06-04T00: 17:00

There, on the shore,
Where the dawn mist rises, -
you see a pale shadow of her,
receding into the distance?
Do not walk behind her,
Even after not look for it,
After vain to escape Shadows
We were taught always ...

fragile shoulders,
body through flexible,
For radiant smile
not immediately uglyadet,
With her eyes
colors of gray, moss,
dies unthinkable
a human heart.

On the day of wintry
helping hand will give you,
smiles sympathetically -
Repel not take it!
fall to thinking,
inadvertently privyazheshsya,
And it will not appear
at the open door ...

Oh, her eyes
Colors quiet slough -
What thoughts are drowning there,
What's the distance they entail?
Carefree,
Neither child nor woman,
To whom you promised,
What others do not count? ..

blond curls
So magic and sparkle,
Only the wings are not angels
behind her!
Nezloblivaya ... And what
beautiful ...
not looking to overpower her,
It will carry off at the bottom!

the day
mirthless laugh, dispel the gloom -
Do not believe, then no one but the enemy,
not Celite, but the stink!
Fascinated,
not give her flowers, they
fade in her eyes
Colors summer thunderstorm ...

will be knocking on the door -
You try not to notice:
This evening nenastlivy
Requests to let the wind.
Do not keep it -
I still do not remain,
Only hand accident
burnt to the bone ...

There, on the shore,
Where the dawn mist rises, Who
unknown is waiting for her
have animal tracks? ..
not look after her,
Nothing in it is no such,
And in memory of her only snow,
whether Stardust ...

* In my opinion such Auntie must somehow be called, but the head does not suit
It seems to me, such a woman must have a name. I wonder, which one
Es scheint mir, so eine Frau muss einen Namen haben. Ich weiss ihn doch nicht *

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greencatina @ 2009-05-07T01: 45:00

 man - a whole world, a parallel world: In its own laws, its own nature, their signs. Vasilisa was afraid to associate with other people - It's like to be one on an alien planet, without support and without advice. Vysilisa read books on evenings, with a lot of thoughts other worlds. People - a whole world, a parallel world. It has its own weather, his poems, his threats. Vasilisa loved to watch others people as a meteorologist who works on the prognosis, forgetting to think about how close the world and the indescribable Humble named Vasilisa. In the parallel world is often necessary to be able enter: Someone - the border, customs and entry on a piece of paper; Someone steel gates and there is no path; Someone wicket, but cornflowers and daisies. But it existed myself narspashku, and without a gate, so that if someone gets - Do not think for a moment that he was in a parallel universe ... Meanwhile, the worlds are usually inhabited - Somewhere thoughts and where certain things, and now sometimes it matures before World War II, which has its villains, its heroes and it happens that in the confusion does not understand who the outside, who hunt to evil, who brought the good. Vasilisa went around as if from a distance, easily opened, but she did not seek the soul - Behold, not knowing how often a thin boundary between the world and the world, just as the border to break. And seeing how slowly the native transgress the threshold of the guests of the other worlds. People - an entire world - and dangerous world, the dangers the more he seems familiar: That's hard to believe that you were definitely cute, "Come in, take off your clothes and make yourself at home and see it, if you are sitting on a throne, And Nobody, not even the most courageous, you will not touch. Vasilisa seemed small and boneless, but - how much has happened here to lay down his head, not to stick with its bizarre microcosm not accept that there exists life. Leaving its characters, hurrying past - Yes not so they were needed. Vasilisa liked the house, and from all corners of the universe, she uyutneee was where she was born into the world. Only occasionally have dreamed her that must necessarily be a better world, a parallel world, without which there is no life. After these infrequent dreams Vasilisa was sad: None of the well-known books not found it this world. Vasilisa kept a diary and did not know the simple secret: That the only worlds We accidentally throws. People - a whole world, a white light - not to seize it, do not learn it, not studied. Zaplutavshaya somewhere in the wilds of thy people, Vasilisa learned to be chutche. Vasilisa wrote to you in the gray notebook, every rustle of yours, every new bright paint, each windy trail on the lake surface of the mysterious, just that - a separate tale. 

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greencatina @ 2009-04-27T01: 49:00

acantharia not found in Internet a poem Which Was occasionally translated into German (very good, but ...).
acantharia has found a poem on the internet , which was translated into German by chance (nothing particularly well, but ...)
acantharia found on the web verse , which randomly moved to the German (not very good, but ...)

So wenig Farben Gott gebraucht,

Wenn er besondre Seelen schafft.

Fuer diese eine sparte er auf

Ein Flaeschchen Tusche, schwarzen Saft.

So, Full of gloomy tenderness,

When she slipped into beautiful body,

As spindle needle, blunt and hot -

She flew on high, it was a song.

Orpheus' eternal elegy

Aurora rising jet

The magic fairies bright,

The tips of the Cologne Cathedral,

For thousands lyres not

to composing music -

from the roses, tears, light

Such a world they built!

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greencatina @ 2009-04-27T01: 49:00

You hear me, green river,
Glance water your thick deep and wise,
Beach yours, you fed,
bent over you polukupolom -
How many secrets of the great values
told them your course? ..
Even the sunshine in you, fathomless,
buried, even the sky-pearl,

Are these stupid tears
not drown and not be scattered?

you listen, the river green,
For anyone else it make?
It is not death man close,
It is not my heart in love,
It is not fear of a difficult choice,
Do not hurt me all the torments,
But the irony of fate barbed:
Whatever you dare - All topsy-turvy,

Whatever you do - not a - it is not so,
Whatever will state - not by those phrases,
However thinking - all deny reason,
from the aimlessness of whether, from which more ...
and walk - As with closed eyelids,
mistaken paths and rivers,
and cry about something no one -
still remains misunderstood.

really well and I live - the howling
over thee, river green?

If only the wind blew fierce,
whirl in a reckless dance,
Yes dispelled the thoughts of the field,
in my head would not let stay,
So that was me page pure,
was untrodden paths,

So that my soul was flowing,
How's your water, River Green,
To the echoes of confusion salty
would not whet her fragile, But
swept with a stream of fresh wisdom
Further, in a sea of thoughts человечьей,
held tight to the shore,
And the trees began to grow here,

To say мне заблудшие:
- Ты послушай, река зеленая ...

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greencatina @ 2009-04-22T00: 54:00

Спасет ли от скуки infinity,
When you know exactly: just ask -
And he will bring you
your dream on a gilded platter?
Sometimes much more important,
Wandering aimlessly, looking into the springtime sky,
chance encounter with her,
or not with her, but something just as magical.

Lead me, perhaps,
Dear fleeting wonders,
tactless mistakes,
Open smiles
naive and sensitive heart!

save if from fear to live life
attempts to drive a steady stream,
When the heart
from the simplicity and narrowness of the sick and sad?
And no matter how mellifluous
words "reliability" and "peace" and "order",
All your looking for the Russian spirit
Loopholes in the world is a dangerous and uncommon.

Lead me,
maybe I'll go for you as a wife,
by secret paths,
the mountains and into the abyss,
Everywhere should be.

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greencatina @ 2009-04-22T00: 28:00

Die Kätzchen spannt aus. The Kitten relaxes. Kitten baldeet.

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greencatina @ 2009-04-03T00: 11:00

Oh, how you want Silence!
Oh, how you want desolation -
to safely lay the shade,
To the motives of your soul
were thoughtful, and - can be heard.
Oh, how you want to allow
Their intricate Netting!
Oh, how you want to talk!
But no - not burning,
not about echoing rushing, nervous,
Suppresses all inside ...

But the buzz, but the roaring motors,
But calls to talk about everyday,
Stress moos lights
the workers busy corridors
City, Town Street,
City Transport, Twilight Town,
City, knows all by name
and screaming from the morning alarm clock:
"Do not forget me! I do not oversleep! .. "

And trembles platform, and beats all
In hysteria rattling Trains -
This town again you bears,
like a squirrel, on the eternal wheel,
quickened his pace, making the puzzle
of the cars, new buildings, palaces, bridges,
So changing world that the naked eye
unclear where that's the point ...

Oh, how you want to live - not under the clanks and knocks Metro,
And under the sounds of the organ in the ancient cathedral and sensitive,
And under eternity frozen either in a stained-glass pattern,
Whether there above you.
Oh, do not want to live under dimensional computer curve,
But beneath the soft tread of the weary wandering winds,
looked into when, why, then left home,
And under rustling quietly scrubbing the old wallpaper,
eye but noticeable only occasionally from afar
Absolutely strange animal ...

City noisy and fidgety,
City drinking your strength, it will not catch up,
City's crazy, and an evening of agony
Oh, you want silence,
Oh as you want desolation -
to quietly lay shadows,
to think calmly walked ...

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greencatina @ 2009-04-03T00: 06:00

minor springtime -
not yet gone cold -
What are you murlychesh the subway rumbling under
a train?
What whispering furtively, where?
Who do not you calm down?

Outdoor reigns in March,
Both air and pure and deep,
And the sun, curled up into a ball,
Kitten bosom blinks -
Ah, the age would wander down the street ...

But nagging early spring -
And the nights are still red -
What are you strekochesh with me,
Why you call for the return
strangled in the room,
in which the frozen winter,
in which both of us unhappy?

minor springtime,
Only shagnesh over the threshold -
asleep in the bosom ray
wake up and slip away.
silently rolled forward evening
The house zadyshitsya easier -
This is a quiet schebechesh? ..

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greencatina @ 2009 -03-07T00: 13:00

Today at work Greennie has passed the natural blonde initiation ritual: got really frightened when my computer buzzed.
Heute im Büro hat Greenchen einen Blondineninitiationsritual bestanden: Ich war echt erschrocken, als mein Computer eingefroren ist.
Today at work was Grinochka rite of initiation into true blondes: natural frightened hung computer.

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greencatina @ 2009-03-07T00: 06:00

Tübingen, one of the houses. Tübingen, neben einem Häuschen. Tübingen, courtyard of one of the houses.