Love is the main meaning of life, its main core. After all, it is this feeling that makes you grow, develop, strive for the best. His role and incredible importance are very accurately conveyed by the statements of great people about love. These are wise phrases, by reading which you begin to better understand your emotions, heart affairs, to look at the world in a new way.
Love is when you want to experience with someone all four seasons.
When you want to run with someone from a spring thunderstorm under a lilac strewn with flowers,
and in the summer to pick berries and swim in the river.
In autumn, cook jam together and seal windows from the cold.
In winter - to help survive a runny nose and long evenings ...
Ray Bradbury
Love is like a tree; it grows of itself, takes deep roots in our whole being, and often continues to grow green and bloom even on the ruins of our heart.
Victor Hugo
Love is full of traps and traps. When she wants to make herself known, she shows only her light, and hides and hides the shadows generated by it.
Paulo Coelho
A man always wants to be woman's first love. Women are more sensitive in such matters. They would like to become the last love of a man.
Oscar Wilde
In love, there is always harmony and harmony,
But cross out the letter - and hell will come out!
Lope de Vega
Even if love brings separation, loneliness, sadness - all the same, it is worth the price we pay for it. Paulo Coelho
Marrying is interesting only for love, to marry a girl just because she is pretty is the same as buying an unnecessary thing in the market just because she is good.
A.P. Chekhov.
Love wears such glasses through which copper looks like gold, poverty is wealth, and drops of fire - pearls. Cervantes
She is always bright, emotional, impressive. With her arrival, everything changes - eyes begin to glow, joy appears on the face, a sweet smile, there is always a great mood in the soul. Love is multifaceted, it reunited the opposite, the impossible, so dissimilar. There is a place for quiet happiness, bright flashes, volcanic eruption, calm flow.
It is unusually different in its manifestations. And so every writer, philosopher, scientist and poet describes it in his own way. There are no two quotes about the love of great people who would equally answer the question: “What is love?”.
For some, this is an endless ocean, others compare it with a great gift, a gift of fate, others consider it art, the main engine of all that is beautiful. But all aphorisms are unanimous in that a truly happy person is only one who knows how to love and has known these experiences at least once in his life.
Old age cannot protect against love, but love can easily protect against old age.
Coco Chanel
Unrequited love is as different from mutual love as error is from truth.
George Sand
Unrequited love does not humiliate a person, but elevates him.
A.S. Pushkin
The woman is sacred; the woman you love is doubly sacred.
Alexandr Duma
Giving love is much more important than receiving it.
Audrey Hepburn
Poor is love if it can be measured.
William Shakespeare
To love is to find your own happiness in the happiness of another.
Leibniz G.
To die of love is to live by it.
Victor Hugo
Love is a delightful flower, but it takes courage to walk to the edge of the abyss and pick it.
Stendhal
Quotes from great people about love will do the job perfectly. After all, they have been created for thousands of years and have collected only the best, most important and magic words about the most beautiful feeling on earth. They will accurately convey all the experiences, fears, fears, help express delight and happiness, find the necessary epithets for comparison.
Beautiful expressions about life and love are the best helpers when you want to say a lot, but you can’t pick up phrases yourself.
Love is sunlight transforming people, charging them with energy. For her sake, they are ready for any deeds, they can perform the most incredible feats. But at the same time they are very afraid to take the simplest step. Recognition for many is a difficult and responsible matter, and it is not known which way to approach it.
A short meaningful aphorism, better than any poems and songs, will tell about the feelings that have arisen. After all, it is so accurate, filled with charm and literary turns, that with the help of a single sentence it makes it clear what is happening inside.
To love is not to look at each other, to love is to look together in the same direction.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Love is the strongest of all passions, because it simultaneously takes possession of the head, heart and body.
Voltaire
Oh, how deadly we love, As in the violent blindness of passions
We most surely destroy what is dear to our heart!
Tyutchev F.I.
Love is a toothache in the heart.
Heinrich Heine
Love often takes the mind from those who have it and gives it to those who do not.
Didro D.
We know that love is as strong as death; but fragile as glass.
G. Maupassant
Who has not spent his youth days on love, Let him know that they passed uselessly.
As-Samarkandi
He does not love who trumpets about love to everyone.
W. Shakespeare
It is always difficult to talk about such a feeling as love, since there are no such exact words in the world to convey the range of feelings that fill the human heart. But it is impossible to hide it, it is simply impossible to remain silent about it. I want everyone around to become as cheerful, joyful and happy as you are when you are in love.
Few people avoid these feelings. Therefore, from year to year, the collections of great quotes about love grow, increase, replenish with new, wise and much-needed words for us, giving us an excellent opportunity to beautifully share our feelings.
Quotes about love with meaning help to understand how different, amazing and unusual it can be. Believe me, you don't have to be a great poet or professor to write nice saying. To do this, it is enough once to truly fall in love with someone.
V. Mayakovsky "About it". Cover by Alexander Rodchenko. Moscow, 1923.
In 1922, the poet wrote the poem "I Love" - his brightest work about love. Mayakovsky was then experiencing the peak of his feelings for L. Brik, and therefore he was sure:
Don't wash away love
no quarrel
not a mile.
Thought out
verified,
verified.
Tatyana Yakovleva, 1932, Paris.
Here the poet reflects on the essence of love and its place in human life. Mayakovsky contrasted venal love with true, passionate, faithful love.
But then again in the poem "About this" lyrical hero appears suffering, tormented by love. This was a turning point in their relationship with Brick.
That is, one can notice how closely the feelings of the poet and the feelings of the lyrical hero are intertwined in Mayakovsky's work.
At the beginning of 1929, a “Letter to Comrade Kostrov from Paris on the Essence of Love” appeared in the Young Guard magazine. It can be seen from this poem that a new love appeared in Mayakovsky’s life, that “the exhausted motor of the heart was again put into work.” It was Tatyana Yakovleva, whom the poet met in Paris in 1928. Poems dedicated to her "Letter to Comrade Kostrov ..." and
LILICHKA!
Smoke tobacco air has left.
Room -
head in krunykhovsky hell.
Remember -
behind this window
first
your hands, frenzied, stroked.
Today you sit here
iron heart.
Another day -
you will expel
you can be scolding.
In the muddy front will not fit for a long time
trembling broken arm in the sleeve.
I'll run out
I will throw the body into the street.
Wild,
go crazy
vanishing in despair.
Don't need this
Expensive,
good,
Let's forgive now.
Doesn't matter
My love -
heavy weight after all -
hanging on you
wherever you run.
Let me roar in the last cry
the bitterness of offended complaints.
If the bull is killed with labor -
he will leave
thaw in cold waters.
Except your love
to me
there is no sea
and from your love and crying you will not beg for rest.
A tired elephant wants rest -
regal will lie down in the scorched sand.
Except your love
to me
no sun,
and I don't know where you are and with whom.
If so the poet was tormented,
He
I would exchange my beloved for money and fame,
and me
not a single joyful ringing,
except for the ringing of your favorite name.
And I won’t throw myself into the span,
and I won't drink poison
and I can’t pull the trigger over my temple.
over me,
except for your gaze
the blade of no knife has no power.
Tomorrow you will forget
who crowned you
that the soul blooming with love burned out,
and vain days swept carnival
ruffle the pages of my books...
Are my words dry leaves
make you stop
greedily breathing?
Give me at least
spread the last tenderness
your outgoing step.
Listen!
Listen!
After all, if the stars are lit -
So - someone wants them to be?
So - someone calls these spitting pearls?
And, tearing up
in blizzards of midday dust,
rushes to god
afraid of being late
crying
kisses his sinewy hand,
asks -
to have a star! -
swears -
will not endure this starless torment!
And then
walks anxious,
but calm on the outside.
Says to someone:
“After all, now you have nothing?
Not scary?
Yes?!"
Listen!
After all, if the stars
ignite -
Does that mean anyone needs it?
So, it is necessary
so that every evening
over the rooftops
lit up at least one star ?!
Conclusion
Don't wash away love
no quarrel
not a mile.
Thought out
verified,
verified.
Raising solemnly a line-fingered verse,
I swear -
I love
unchanging and true!
Attitude towards the young lady
This evening decided -
Should we not become lovers? -
Dark,
Nobody will see us.
I really leaned
And indeed
I,
leaning over
Told her
As a good parent
“Passion is a steep cliff -
Please,
Stand back.
stand back
Please".
Letter to Tatyana Yakovleva
You are the only one for me
straight growth,
get close
with an eyebrow,
give
about this
important evening
tell
more human.
Five hours,
and from now on
poem
of people
dense forest,
extinct
populated city,
I hear only
whistle dispute
trains to Barcelona.
In the black sky
lightning step,
thunder
ugly
in heavenly drama, -
not a thunderstorm
and this
Just
jealousy
moves mountains.
stupid words
don't trust raw materials
do not be afraid
this shaking,
I bridle
I will humble
feelings
offspring of the nobility.
passion measles
come down with a scab,
but joy
inexhaustible
I'll be long
I'll just
I speak in verse.
Jealousy,
wives,
tears…
well them! -
swollen eyelids,
fit Viu.
I'm not myself
and I
jealous
for Soviet Russia.
Saw
on the shoulders of the patch,
their
consumption
licks with a sigh.
What,
we are not to blame
hundred million
was bad.
We
Now
so tender -
sports
straighten not many, -
you and us
needed in Moscow
lacks
leggy.
Not for you,
in the snow
and in typhoid
walking
with these legs
Here
for caresses
give them away
in dinners
with the oilmen.
Don't you think
just squinting
from under straightened arcs.
Come here,
go to the crossroads
my big
and clumsy hands.
Do not want?
Stay and winter
and this
insult
we will lower it to the general account.
I don't care
you
someday I'll take
one
or together with Paris.
Love
World
again
overgrown with flowers,
at the world
spring look.
And again
rises
unresolved issue -
about women
and about love.
We love the parade
elegant song.
We speak beautifully
going to the rally.
But often
underneath it
moldy,
an old, old man.
Sings at the meeting:
"Forward, comrades...
And at home
forgetting about the solo aria,
yelling at his wife
that cabbage soup is not in the boil
So what
cucumbers
badly salted.
Lives with another
wide kiosk,
underwear -
cheating diva.
But thin stocking
reproaches his wife:
- you compromise
in front of the team. -
They climb to anyone
would be with legs.
Five women
will change
during the day.
We, they say,
Liberty,
not monogamy.
Down with philistinism
and prejudice!
From flower to flower
young dragonfly
flutters,
flies
and tossing.
One for him
in the world
seems to be evil
This
alimony.
He's glad to die
saving a third
three years
happy to sue
and I, they say, not me,
and she's not mine
and I in general
castrato.
And they love
so be
faithful nun -
tyrant
jealousy
every trifle
and measures
Love
for revolver caliber
wrong
in the back of the head
empty the bullet.
Fourth -
hero of a dozen battles,
and so
whatever is expensive
running
in a fright
from his wife's shoes,
a simple Mostorg shoe.
And the other
arrow of love
otherwise marks,
confuses
- such a child -
catch
beloved
into romance networks
with promotion
subordinate on the tariff scale ...
On the female line
the tabernacles of paradise are not for you either.
simple boy
hooked up
mistress.
He work hard
and her
don't hold back
running after the flare
every boulevard.
Well,
sit
and in crying
Nile nil.
Look! -
Groom!
- For whom, dear, did I marry?
For myself -
or for them? -
Parents
and children of this kind:
- What parents?
And we
no worse, please! -
Engaged
sports love,
not having time
join the Komsomol.
And further
to the village
life without movement -
live as before
year after year.
Like this
getting married
and get married
how they buy
working cattle.
If it will be
last like this
year after year,
That,
I'll tell you straight
will not be able
take apart
and marriage code
where is father and daughter
who is a son and mother.
I'm not for the family.
On fire
and blue smoke
burn out
and this junk piece,
where they hissed
mother goose
and children
guarded
goose father!
No.
But we live in a commune
tight,
in hostels
body skin gets dirty.
Necessary
voice
raise for cleanliness
our relations
and love affairs.
Don't back off -
Well, I'm not married.
Us
don't pop hold together gibberish.
Necessary
tie up
and the lives of men and women
word,
uniting us:
"Comrades".
Yakovlev G.N.
Interest in this topic is inexhaustible.
Mayakovsky is considered to be primarily a poet-tribune. But he did not refuse to write about love, and he could not help but write about it, but this topic occupies a more modest place in his revolutionary poetry than that of other poets. He explained the reason himself:
I will write
and about that
and about this
but now
no time
love lines.
I
all my
the sonorous power of a poet
I give you
attacking class.
But Mayakovsky did not forget about this. For him, love has never been something secondary, insignificant in life. “Love is the heart of everything,” the poet wrote. “If it stops working, everything else dies off, becomes superfluous, unnecessary.” We can safely say about him that he carefully carried love through his whole life:
If
I
what did you write if
what
said it was to blame
heaven eyes,
beloved
my
eyes.
("Fine!")
Of course, the work of the post-October Mayakovsky differs from his work before the revolution: he was endowed with an exceptional sense of the era, the pulse of the time. The radical breakdown of the socio-political structure in Russia determined the poet's different worldview, put forward new moral and ethical problems for him. But there is something unshakable, imperishable in Mayakovsky's love poems of different eras: openness, frankness, sometimes, I would say, loud intimacy (“A cloud in pants” and others), a deep and pure feeling that excludes any compromises, calculations dictated by prosperous “prudence” (“Shameful prudence will never come to me,” he writes shortly before his death). But it is precisely on the calculation that bourgeois-philistine “love” is based, bought by people who are ready to “exchange their beloved for money and fame.” In his pre-revolutionary works, Mayakovsky rejected such human relations with disgust (“A cloud in pants”, “Flute-spine”, “Man”, etc.) and spoke of a lofty and disinterested feeling:
And me
not a single joyful ringing,
except for the ringing of your favorite name.
This poem is "Lily! Instead of a letter” (1916), in which, even after almost seventy years, not a single word seems worn out, stamped, each line will memorize strongly, freshly, and original. In his poems 1915-1916. - and a feeling of tragedy, loneliness, and readiness for self-immolation in the name of love:
And only my pain is sharper - I stand,
entwined with fire, on the unburned fire of unimaginable love
("Human"),
and a sea of tenderness:
with the last tenderness to cover your outgoing step.
("Lilichka! Instead of a letter")
“He was very kind ... unusually soft, very affectionate ... He was sharp only on the stage,” Lily Yuryevna Brik recalled about the poet.
In the poem “I Love” (1922), cursing the corrupt “love” of bourgeois society, the poet glorifies liberated love, free from the power of money, but not from the concepts of honor, decency, nobility. The theory of fleeting, “free love” (“a glass of water”), which became widespread in the 20s, Mayakovsky contrasts true love:
No quarrels, no versts will wash away love.
Thought out
verified,
verified.
Raising solemnly a line-fingered verse,
I swear -
I love
unchanging and true!
The poem “I Love” appeared during the NEP period, when a stream of base, sugary, vulgar or decadently hysterical love poems, designed for the bourgeois taste, poured into print. The sentimentally whining and tenderly lisping titles of the collections spoke for themselves: “Sick Love”, “Blue Bedroom”, “Love Delirium”, etc. Mayakovsky was ironic about this:
In your apartment
little world
for bedrooms
are growing
curly lyricists.
("I love")
So what: down with intimacy? Long live the drum? From now on and forever? No, of course not:
Diverse
our souls.
For battle - thunder,
for bed -
whisper.
And we have
for love and for fight -
marches.
Please march
to your beloved
slap!
("Advanced Advanced")
But the Poet of the Revolution did not close himself in a narrow apartment world, he thought and felt on a grand scale. This is what distinguished him, a great poet and a real person, from some of his fellow writers.
Mayakovsky hated any pollution of poetry by philistine passions, outpourings of petty souls, longing for a "sweet" life and love. Good, but stumbled contemporary poets also got it. Mayakovsky criticized Ivan Molchanov and other authors who did not know how to discern the human essence behind the “blue scarf” and slipped into the same petty-bourgeois vulgarity. The poet, connoisseur of true female beauty, has always been alien to the substitution of deep and beautiful feelings for animal passion or the principle of sale. Let us recall his poem "Beauties" or "Letter to Tatyana Yakovleva":
I do not like
Parisian love: any female
decorate with silks, stretching, doze off,
saying -
tubo
dogs
ferocious passion.
For all the journalistic broadcasting, the oratorical power of Mayakovsky's poetic voice, the emphasized restraint, even the shyness of the titles of his poems "I Love", "About This" are unusually attractive. In his poems, the personal, the intimate is inextricably intertwined with the public, the dream of the future is expressed, when true love will come to all people:
So that there is no love - servants of marriages,
lust,
loaves.
Bed cursing,
getting up from the couch, so that love would go to the whole universe.
("About it")
But if “love is the heart of everything”, then it is clear that it brings both suffering and happiness, causes a complex set of experiences. Bitter, with a touch of self-irony, words about love are scattered in various poems by Mayakovsky:
Here comes the kayuk of love, dear Vladim Vladimych
("Anniversary"),
Have you seen
so that a person
with a biography
would be single
and aged unreleased?!
("Parting"),
I've been waiting for love
I am 30 years old.
("Tamara and the Demon")
A playful poem, permeated with the motive of longing and loneliness, also sounds sad - “Conversation on the Odessa roadstead of the landing ships“ Soviet Dagestan ”and“ Red Abkhazia ”(1926). Didn't add up personal life the poet the way he wanted...
A new great love came to Mayakovsky in last years life. In Paris in 1928 he met Tatyana Yakovleva, who had gone there in 1925 to visit her artist uncle. She was, apparently, a smart and beautiful girl (in verse Mayakovsky calls her a beauty). Obviously, the love was mutual. In letters to her mother in Russia, Tatyana spoke about the poet and her relationship with him: “He treated me amazingly ... He called from Berlin, and it was a continuous cry. I receive telegrams every day and flowers every week. He ordered that roses be sent to me every Sunday morning before his arrival. We have everything filled with flowers. It's very cute and, most importantly, it looks like him. It was very hard for me when he left. This is the most talented person I have ever met”; “Endless kindness and caring... There are no people of his caliber here. In his attitude towards women (and towards me in particular) he is an absolute gentleman”; “The people I meet are mostly “secular”, without any desire to move their brains or with some kind of flies infested with thoughts and feelings. Mayakovsky whipped me up, made me (I was terribly afraid to seem stupid next to him) mentally pull myself up, and most importantly, sharply remember Russia ... I almost returned. He is so colossal both physically and morally that after him there is literally a desert.
There is a beautiful legend about the Georgian artist Pirosmanishvili, who showered his beloved with roses, a legend that served as the basis for the famous poem by A. Voznesensky, which became a popular song. But that's a legend. Before us is a beautiful story, exposing the tender, loving, beautiful, vulnerable soul of the poet, whom many imagine only as a block of stone, an impenetrable monolith, as incorrigibly rude and sharp person. For many months, Tatyana Yakovleva received baskets of flowers from the Parisian rose garden from Mayakovsky, who had left for the USSR. They prepared cute poetic notes that were put into bouquets and baskets, for example:
We send these roses to you so that life will appear in the pink light. The roses will wither... and then we will cast down the chrysanthemums at our feet.
To her, Tatyana, Mayakovsky addressed a poetic letter, which was clearly not intended for publication and was not published for a long time. It is all the more valuable for us that even in this intimate message the poet has not betrayed himself in anything: he is pure, honest and noble as a loving man and as a citizen of his great Motherland.
In the kiss of hands
lips,
in body tremors
close to me
red
color
my republics
Same
must
blaze.
This is the beginning of the poem, which inseparably combines pain for a country tormented by difficulties, and devotion to it, and an appeal to a beloved woman full of human dignity and undisguised tenderness (“Come here, come to the crossroads of my big and clumsy hands”, “I still someday I'll take it - one or two with Paris").
Another poem also became a textbook, also associated with the name of Tatyana Yakovleva, - "A letter to Comrade Kostrov from Paris about the essence of love." The work is both serious and playful, and this duality, as noted by the researchers, is already felt in the title: the neighborhood of the words "Paris" and "love" traditionally evokes the idea of a light hobby, and at the same time, the discussion "about the essence of love" is something like a serious philosophical treatise. But in a half-joking manner, Mayakovsky also expressed his cherished thoughts in it. He always believed that true (and even more so mutual) love should inspire a person, cause an upsurge. creative forces. In one of the letters, the poet stated: “Love is life, this is the main thing. Poems, deeds, and everything else unfolds from it. This is what is said in a bright, cheerful, life-affirming poem. A detailed analysis of the "Letter to Comrade Kostrov ..." is devoted to the article by D. Ustyuzhanin "Community - Love". And as always, Mayakovsky is proud of his country, where he is famous as a poet. IN lyric poem, replete with vivid comparisons, unique poetic imagery, first of all, it is told about the depth and strength of "simple human" love:
Don't catch
me
on the rubbish
on a passerby
a couple of feelings.
I'm
forever
wounded by love
I'm barely moving.
On the basis of the considered works, it is easy to conclude that it is impossible to separate Mayakovsky's love lyrics from his civil, political lyrics. The integrity of Mayakovsky's nature, the certainty of his life position, determined the indissolubility of personal and social in his work.
In conclusion, I would like to turn to the words of D.I. Pisareva: “...Think about it, what is lyrics? After all, this is just a public confession of a person? Wonderful. And why do we need a public confession of such a person who absolutely cannot attract our attention to himself with anything other than his desire to confess?.. Lyricism is the highest and most difficult manifestation of art. Only first-class geniuses have the right to be lyricists, because only a colossal personality can benefit society by drawing its attention to its own private and mental life.
There is no doubt that Mayakovsky was a colossal personality. But he believed that the time for love poems had not yet come, but this era would certainly come. One can only regret that Vladimir Mayakovsky did not live to see another time. But what he managed to write about love is of great moral and artistic value.
Keywords: Vladimir Mayakovsky, cubo-futurism, criticism of the work of Vladimir Mayakovsky, criticism of the poems of Vladimir Mayakovsky, analysis of the poems of Vladimir Mayakovsky, download criticism, download analysis, free download, Russian literature of the 20th century
