It is like a violin on my shoulder.

And I did like the violinist,

To myself I press his hand.

And hair streaming on the shoulder,

How to mute the music ...

 

It is like a violin on my shoulder.

What does the high violin singing?

What am I - about her? That the flame - a candle?

And the Lord himself that he knows about creation?

 

After all, the supreme gift of himself does not know.

A beauty - above gifts.

She herself is no effort

And endow a never tired.

 

It is like a violin on my shoulder.

And its meaning is very complex harmonies,

But heed all and each tormented.

And for her no stranger.

 

And turn away from strife and care,

We listen in moments of lucidity

That long, slow singing.

And learn it the highest value,

Which themselves do not know.

 

David Samoilov

 

 

Anastasia Hohriakova warm and cold in 2001

 

 

 

 

 

Kevin Kibsey La Solista

 

 

 

Scott Andrew Spencer Virtuoso

 

 

Nicholas Kozlenko Girl with earring 2008

 

 

Jeanne Zutlevitss girl playing the violin.

 

 

Alexander Rozhansky High melody.

 

"Violin"

 

I - hoarse violin,

To which touch it with a bow,

And the sounds of curl in curly treble clef.

I - tired violin,

Attached prone

On the shoulder of the musician, which will not be back.

I - broken violin,

The one who holds me by the throat

And pulls out the truth, yesterday was quite a stranger.

I - Asleep violin,

No one knows how much it hurts

Throw rattle from the heart to break up with him.

I - hoarse violin,

Breaking the sounds of sadness,

You have not read my story and pages,

And in saying that I know by heart.

 

author - estrella

 

 

Jeno Medvetsky Woman with violin 1968

 

 

 

Andrei Markin Red Violin.

 

 

 

Yaroslav Krutakova Violin.

 

 

Bayram Salamov lady in a red hat.

 

 

Vitaly Yermolaev Columbine.

 

"Violin"

 

Violin sang tart sadness

Diseased an instant beauty.

It is out of the room screaming,

She stepped on his foot.

She screamed in his ear is vulgar,

Assuming that this should be singing.

She whispered something insidiously,

Continuing loud sniffle.

And she said, gasping in pain,

Continued to quietly moan

Dying helplessly on the outside

From the inability to lie.

 

Tatyana Zhukova

 

Henri Rousseau paintings

Irene Sheri Harmony thoughts

 

 

Andrew Atroshenko Music.

 

 

 

Yelena Mukhina Violin 2000

 

 

Michael Cheval Flight unimaginable harmony 2004

by Oil Paintings reproductions

What was - what will be the fate Let judge,
Before this beauty All is vanity and smoke ...
Tramp and a bully, I walked halfway around the world,
But kneel
Before the city my ...

 

They're used to the rain. Rain - a part of their lives. Eternal rain. If you want to cry, do not cry. Too much water around. This makes life of St. Petersburg is very strong. They dream about the sun a plane flying to the white sand on a remote beach. And at night they dance in the light of thousands of small, bright, sunlight ... They smile, kiss, play with the city of love ....

Did you get into the city, like an animal in a trap;
Even if it hurts, it will not go away
But once you go out in the night fog
Then you'll see the sky in his handful ....

His Favourite Girl

Everything seems empty and out of place,
Against the background of his words - its ridiculous.
His poems - the country, the era of cast,
In the same town with him born flattering

Here, breathe on the quays wind
- Our North lives in us Incurable -
Wander, silent and long wait for the tide
Water and energy, and many kilometers,

A better - miles offshore; the wide world
Search our earthly reflection,
That will help wash away the taste of losses
In the struggle with each other for the right of reply

And the balance of his mind. cable
Us from birth tied to the door ...
But only the wave that beats to the beach at midnight,
For a brief moment eliminate the issues.
Paul Cordes 26.05.2012

Hey ..., Leningrad, St. Petersburg, Petrogradische .... 9 (panoramic photo)

by Jack vettriano paintings

I thought no tools to measure the depth,

No power to slow down the running spring.
Only have one opportunity to say a moment: "Stop!"
Breaking the chains of thought, be constrained - a dream.

Ricardo Fernandez Ortega is considered one of the best artists of Mexico. Born in 1971 in the city of Durango, while restrictions and full savings. His interest in art began at an early age. Their hard work, dedication to the art of Ricardo earned a name for itself. Forty years later, the artist can be proud of the fact that his paintings became known and popular. His work has crossed the Mexican border and admired in New York, Europe, Madrid.

(all works - clickable)

Hearts

Ricardo Fernandez Ortega

by Leroy Neiman Paintings