
Авторський рейтинг від 5,25 (вірші)
2025.07.04
06:37
Шаліє вітрове гліссандо
На струнах віт жага бринить,
І усміхаються троянди,
І золотава сонця нить
Нас пестить ніжністю, кохана,
У твій ясний, чудовий день.
І літо звечора й до рана
На струнах віт жага бринить,
І усміхаються троянди,
І золотава сонця нить
Нас пестить ніжністю, кохана,
У твій ясний, чудовий день.
І літо звечора й до рана
2025.07.03
21:54
Як не стало Мономаха і Русі не стало.
Нема кому князів руських у руках тримати.
Знов взялися між собою вони воювати,
Знов часи лихі, непевні на Русі настали.
За шмат землі брат на брата руку піднімає,
Син на батька веде військо, щоб «своє» забрати.
Нема кому князів руських у руках тримати.
Знов взялися між собою вони воювати,
Знов часи лихі, непевні на Русі настали.
За шмат землі брат на брата руку піднімає,
Син на батька веде військо, щоб «своє» забрати.
2025.07.03
21:10
По білому – чорне. По жовтому – синь.
Та він же у мене однісінький син".
Муарова туга схиля прапори.
А в танку Василько, мов свічка, горить.
Клубочаться з димом слова-заповіт:
«Прощайте, матусю...Не плачте...Живіть!..»
По білому – чорне. По жовтому
Та він же у мене однісінький син".
Муарова туга схиля прапори.
А в танку Василько, мов свічка, горить.
Клубочаться з димом слова-заповіт:
«Прощайте, матусю...Не плачте...Живіть!..»
По білому – чорне. По жовтому
2025.07.03
10:35
поки ти сковзаєш за браму снів
іще цілунка би мені
осяйний шанс в екстазові
цілунок твій цілунок твій
у дні ясні та болю повні
твій ніжний дощ мене огорне
це безум утікати годі
іще цілунка би мені
осяйний шанс в екстазові
цілунок твій цілунок твій
у дні ясні та болю повні
твій ніжний дощ мене огорне
це безум утікати годі
2025.07.03
08:50
У ніч на 29 червня під час відбиття масованої повітряної атаки рф на літаку F-16 загинув
український льотчик Максим Устименко.
Герою було 32 роки. Без батька залишився чотирирічний син…
Вдалося збити сім повітряних цілей,
відвести від населених пу
український льотчик Максим Устименко.
Герою було 32 роки. Без батька залишився чотирирічний син…
Вдалося збити сім повітряних цілей,
відвести від населених пу
2025.07.03
05:38
Ще мліє ніч перед відходом
І місяць замітає слід,
А вже в досвітній прохолоді
Забагровів утішно схід.
І небосхил узявся жаром,
І трохи ширшим обрій став, –
І роси вкрили, ніби чаром,
Безшумне листя сонних трав.
І місяць замітає слід,
А вже в досвітній прохолоді
Забагровів утішно схід.
І небосхил узявся жаром,
І трохи ширшим обрій став, –
І роси вкрили, ніби чаром,
Безшумне листя сонних трав.
2025.07.02
21:58
Чоловік ховався у хащах мороку,
у глибинній воді ненависті,
він поринав без батискафа
у водорості підсвідомості,
у зарості алогічних питань,
у зіткнення, контрапункт
нерозв'язних проблем буття,
у війну світу й антисвіту,
у глибинній воді ненависті,
він поринав без батискафа
у водорості підсвідомості,
у зарості алогічних питань,
у зіткнення, контрапункт
нерозв'язних проблем буття,
у війну світу й антисвіту,
2025.07.02
17:34
На кого лишив Ти, гадe?
Повні груди, пишний заде -
Літру назбирала сліз,
В бульбашках забило ніс.
Сповідаласі три рази,
Щоб позбутисі зарази.
Як мене поплутав біс,
Повні груди, пишний заде -
Літру назбирала сліз,
В бульбашках забило ніс.
Сповідаласі три рази,
Щоб позбутисі зарази.
Як мене поплутав біс,
2025.07.02
05:30
Як ґрунт підготувати,
Щоб мати врожаї, –
Розказують вдвадцяте
Учителі мої.
Відомо їм достоту,
Коли пора якраз
Уже іти полоти,
Чи підгортати час.
Щоб мати врожаї, –
Розказують вдвадцяте
Учителі мої.
Відомо їм достоту,
Коли пора якраз
Уже іти полоти,
Чи підгортати час.
2025.07.02
03:14
Залишайсі на ніч - мій Сірко
Відхлепоче ті з рук мольоко,
Схочуть кури курчати "ко-ко"
На підстилках у стиль ро-ко-ко!
Я тебе на руках донесу,
Прополощу в миднице красу,
Покрою нам на двох кубасу,
Відхлепоче ті з рук мольоко,
Схочуть кури курчати "ко-ко"
На підстилках у стиль ро-ко-ко!
Я тебе на руках донесу,
Прополощу в миднице красу,
Покрою нам на двох кубасу,
2025.07.01
23:57
Розхожими були Патерики
Про кельників німих і бісогонів –
Тоді миряни різні залюбки
Рівнялись показово на канони.
Опісля настає період хронік:
Походи, розкоші, повстання мас,
Прославлені в суспільній обороні –
Про кельників німих і бісогонів –
Тоді миряни різні залюбки
Рівнялись показово на канони.
Опісля настає період хронік:
Походи, розкоші, повстання мас,
Прославлені в суспільній обороні –
2025.07.01
22:02
На екватор вмощені небесний
Зір липневих квітнуть едельвейси.
Космосу похитує їх вітер.
Там десь паленіє Бетельгейзе.
В Оріоні - зоряна імпреза!
Наднова народжується світу!
Багрянисто зірка догорає,
Зір липневих квітнуть едельвейси.
Космосу похитує їх вітер.
Там десь паленіє Бетельгейзе.
В Оріоні - зоряна імпреза!
Наднова народжується світу!
Багрянисто зірка догорає,
2025.07.01
21:47
Багато людей думають:
куди зник поет?
Куди він дівся
із літературного поля?
Його немає в соцмережах,
у "Фейсбуці", " Телеграмі",
його телефон
не відповідає.
куди зник поет?
Куди він дівся
із літературного поля?
Його немає в соцмережах,
у "Фейсбуці", " Телеграмі",
його телефон
не відповідає.
2025.07.01
21:21
Якщо ти хочеш проковтнути це - вперед.
Я краще все перетворю на сміх і попіл.
Забуду ключ від усіх своїх дверей.
Розмножу гнів неприйняття на сотні копій.
Закриюся від натовпу плащем.
Пройду як ніж через вершкове масло.
Залишуся заручни
Я краще все перетворю на сміх і попіл.
Забуду ключ від усіх своїх дверей.
Розмножу гнів неприйняття на сотні копій.
Закриюся від натовпу плащем.
Пройду як ніж через вершкове масло.
Залишуся заручни
2025.07.01
13:52
Хоч було вже пізно,
В крайню хату до ворожки
Якось Чорт заскочив:
«Розкажи, люба небого,
Тільки правду щиру,
Що говорять тут про Бога
І про мене, звісно?
Прокляли, мабуть, обох
В крайню хату до ворожки
Якось Чорт заскочив:
«Розкажи, люба небого,
Тільки правду щиру,
Що говорять тут про Бога
І про мене, звісно?
Прокляли, мабуть, обох
2025.07.01
12:27
Далеч безкрая синіє, як море,
Мліючи тихо в принаднім теплі, –
Жайвір щебече здіймаючись вгору
І замовкає, торкнувшись землі.
Змірюю поглядом світле безмежжя,
Хоч не збираюся в інші краї, –
Подуви вітру привітно бентежать
Ними ж оголені груди мої
Останні надходження: 7 дн | 30 дн | ...Мліючи тихо в принаднім теплі, –
Жайвір щебече здіймаючись вгору
І замовкає, торкнувшись землі.
Змірюю поглядом світле безмежжя,
Хоч не збираюся в інші краї, –
Подуви вітру привітно бентежать
Ними ж оголені груди мої
Останні коментарі: сьогодні | 7 днів

2025.04.24
2025.03.18
2025.03.09
2025.02.12
2024.12.24
2024.10.17
2024.08.04
• Українське словотворення
• Усі Словники
• Про віршування
• Латина (рус)
• Дослівник до Біблії (Євр.)
• Дослівник до Біблії (Гр.)
• Інші словники

Автори /
Наталя Бліхар (1988) /
Проза
The prayer of violin
Matthew walked quickly along the street. Expression of his face signified that he didn’t care where he went exactly,-he wanted only to be alone. An easy frost dried up an asphalt and it became slippery, that’s why the boy ticked by the sneakers as if heels were hooked on to them. Leaves from greek nuts(although still green) fell off already. They fell down on to his head, shoulders…
The air was fresh, clean with the aroma of those nuts.
Matthew even felt cold a little as far as he was dressed in one velveteen shirt. On the shoulders he had a backpack with which he was going to boarding-school. His fingers were easily penetrated into by cold and that is why the boy from time to time holded them in fists and raised them to lips, blew on them. But then he hid them in the pockets of jeans.
Young man quickly passed from a street to street, lost in crowd and “came up” where less people were. It seemed that he was like other, but…
Passing through a park Matthew slowed the step and walked up to one of free bench, by which pigeons walked cooing. These sounds reminded the cat’s purring. The fellow began to look on that, how birds as though pushing off from each other found some seeds. Not far away some not young woman was walking with her dog. Dark glasses on her face signified that she was blind. The two lovers were nearby. A boy whispered something to the girl’s ear and she smiled at him in reply. Yes, she was happy.
On other bench a young mother set with her little daughter and plaited her gold hair. The girl asked something and the mother, satisfied with her, answer her in adult way.
Matthew was lonely . The boy felt, as though in other world separate from these people. He wanted to shout to their world but couldn’t. Matthew was mute. The boy looked around again. He could never call a dog, shout on it or to praise it. The dog will not understand his sings. He never would be able to say the girl the words of love, not able to pour out to her his soul and he would not be able to read fairy-tale for his own child befor sleep.
Matthew looked on the sky. Grey , gloomy clouds moved on it. His eyes were filled with tears. Why was it so hard to him to live in this world? Why so hard?
A hot tear rolled down his cold face. The boy took a scarf from his neck and wiped his eyes with it. This scarf… That was his mother’s scarf. He didn’t remember when she came to him in boarding-school, then she brought him some things. Among them was this scarf. He still smelled her perfume. The boy tried to keep this smell. Matthew didn’t remember how his mother looked, but he knew that she will come again. She must come…
Young man took off backpack and took out the violin, and played it. Faint, sweet and sad melody spread around the park. It flowed in frozen air and as if flying up in the sky. It seemed, the people, who always hurried somewhere suddenly started walking slower, listening to music. In these moments Matthew didn’t think about anything, he simply didn’t exist. He was completely devoted to playing. It seemed that his soul moved into his violin. The melody filled out the whole alley, park, town… The doves moved faster, turned around like tops. Matthew played and played without stopping.
Suddenly the birds frightened flew up. The young man stoped playing.
- Sharik, Sharik?! – called woman, who walked the dog, she stood looking around for her favourite animal.
Matthew put down the violin on the bench and ran after the dog. In a minute he was tying the scarf around its neck. The boy tooked him to woman, who still was calling her dog. Matthew simply handed her scarf and wanted to go but woman stoped him.
-Are you this boy, who played the violin so skillfully? –she asked and kept silent expecting an answer. Matthew didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t answer, because he was numb, could’t nod, because knew that she was blind. They were quite for some minutes and this time seemed endless.
- If this is you, please, play again,- woman said finally.
Mathew rushed to the violin and began to played. The woman walked up and sat down alongside. But in minute she stopped him, touching his shoulder.
- At home I have the same violin. Can you go with me and play the music together?
And not waiting for an answer, she stood up and went down an alley leading the dog alongside. The boy took his packback and followed her. They walked silently. Woman time from time pulled scarf and shouted at the dog. The young man walked next to her and thought: why he agreed to go with this woman and how he would reply when she ask him something again. They
walked up to old five-storied building, which was not far from the park. Matthew noticed that the staircase was dirty. Old, wooden steps creaked and it seemed that they can fall down any moment. It stinked with pharmaceutical stuff there. The dog stopped in front of one door and barked.
- Just a second,- woman calmed down the dog, took the keys out and opend the door. Matthew was surprised that the flat was clean, air was fresh and smelled with known perfume.
The woman closed the door, let the dog go and it disappeared in the next room. The boy walked and looked around hoping to see somebody else.
- I live alone, - said woman as if reading his thoughts, - Yes, I am completely alone. I have a son, but he lives separately.
The woman walked up to the сloset that stood in corridor and took out the violin. She started to play.
It was something undescribable! Matthew had never heard such a great play. As if was not an old, blind woman, who played, but skillful master. The woman stopped playing.
- Why don’t you play? – she asked and touched strings with fiddlestick. The young man played obidiently. Their violins merged as if two big waterfalls merge into one vigorous river. Its water was clean, warm and sweet ready to break free and flow into boundless ocean fellings. Time stopped, only music continued to sound. They played till the evening.
Matthew was surprised, why this woman doesn’t ask him anything , she even doesn’t try to hear something, as if she knows everything about him.
- You play well, - she only said, - but in your playing there is so pain and sorrow. I know, it can be one method to get rid of pain, but it is not the way out. I so tired of that too, but I understood at last the following. Even, when I ask: “ Oh, my God, why it is so hard? “ , He continues to love me. Do you understand? It is wonderful to know that you are necessary for someone, that someone loves you, that you are loved by God! He is alongside…always… I cannot see him as cannot see you, but I feel you with my heart. I can talk with Him always, even when I play on the violin. I love Him.
Woman brought the Matthew’s scarf to the her mouth. Yes, those were her parfume.
The fellow went out on the street and breathed in clean, frosty air. It smelled with the leaves of greek nuts. He looked on the sky and smiled. There were many bright stars. The familiar music trembled in the air.
The violin played through the opened window…
• Можлива допомога "Майстерням"
Публікації з назвою одними великими буквами, а також поетичні публікації і((з з))бігами
не анонсуватимуться на головних сторінках ПМ (зі збігами, якщо вони таки не обов'язкові)
The prayer of violin
Matthew walked quickly along the street. Expression of his face signified that he didn’t care where he went exactly,-he wanted only to be alone. An easy frost dried up an asphalt and it became slippery, that’s why the boy ticked by the sneakers as if heels were hooked on to them. Leaves from greek nuts(although still green) fell off already. They fell down on to his head, shoulders…
The air was fresh, clean with the aroma of those nuts.
Matthew even felt cold a little as far as he was dressed in one velveteen shirt. On the shoulders he had a backpack with which he was going to boarding-school. His fingers were easily penetrated into by cold and that is why the boy from time to time holded them in fists and raised them to lips, blew on them. But then he hid them in the pockets of jeans.
Young man quickly passed from a street to street, lost in crowd and “came up” where less people were. It seemed that he was like other, but…
Passing through a park Matthew slowed the step and walked up to one of free bench, by which pigeons walked cooing. These sounds reminded the cat’s purring. The fellow began to look on that, how birds as though pushing off from each other found some seeds. Not far away some not young woman was walking with her dog. Dark glasses on her face signified that she was blind. The two lovers were nearby. A boy whispered something to the girl’s ear and she smiled at him in reply. Yes, she was happy.
On other bench a young mother set with her little daughter and plaited her gold hair. The girl asked something and the mother, satisfied with her, answer her in adult way.
Matthew was lonely . The boy felt, as though in other world separate from these people. He wanted to shout to their world but couldn’t. Matthew was mute. The boy looked around again. He could never call a dog, shout on it or to praise it. The dog will not understand his sings. He never would be able to say the girl the words of love, not able to pour out to her his soul and he would not be able to read fairy-tale for his own child befor sleep.
Matthew looked on the sky. Grey , gloomy clouds moved on it. His eyes were filled with tears. Why was it so hard to him to live in this world? Why so hard?
A hot tear rolled down his cold face. The boy took a scarf from his neck and wiped his eyes with it. This scarf… That was his mother’s scarf. He didn’t remember when she came to him in boarding-school, then she brought him some things. Among them was this scarf. He still smelled her perfume. The boy tried to keep this smell. Matthew didn’t remember how his mother looked, but he knew that she will come again. She must come…
Young man took off backpack and took out the violin, and played it. Faint, sweet and sad melody spread around the park. It flowed in frozen air and as if flying up in the sky. It seemed, the people, who always hurried somewhere suddenly started walking slower, listening to music. In these moments Matthew didn’t think about anything, he simply didn’t exist. He was completely devoted to playing. It seemed that his soul moved into his violin. The melody filled out the whole alley, park, town… The doves moved faster, turned around like tops. Matthew played and played without stopping.
Suddenly the birds frightened flew up. The young man stoped playing.
- Sharik, Sharik?! – called woman, who walked the dog, she stood looking around for her favourite animal.
Matthew put down the violin on the bench and ran after the dog. In a minute he was tying the scarf around its neck. The boy tooked him to woman, who still was calling her dog. Matthew simply handed her scarf and wanted to go but woman stoped him.
-Are you this boy, who played the violin so skillfully? –she asked and kept silent expecting an answer. Matthew didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t answer, because he was numb, could’t nod, because knew that she was blind. They were quite for some minutes and this time seemed endless.
- If this is you, please, play again,- woman said finally.
Mathew rushed to the violin and began to played. The woman walked up and sat down alongside. But in minute she stopped him, touching his shoulder.
- At home I have the same violin. Can you go with me and play the music together?
And not waiting for an answer, she stood up and went down an alley leading the dog alongside. The boy took his packback and followed her. They walked silently. Woman time from time pulled scarf and shouted at the dog. The young man walked next to her and thought: why he agreed to go with this woman and how he would reply when she ask him something again. They
walked up to old five-storied building, which was not far from the park. Matthew noticed that the staircase was dirty. Old, wooden steps creaked and it seemed that they can fall down any moment. It stinked with pharmaceutical stuff there. The dog stopped in front of one door and barked.
- Just a second,- woman calmed down the dog, took the keys out and opend the door. Matthew was surprised that the flat was clean, air was fresh and smelled with known perfume.
The woman closed the door, let the dog go and it disappeared in the next room. The boy walked and looked around hoping to see somebody else.
- I live alone, - said woman as if reading his thoughts, - Yes, I am completely alone. I have a son, but he lives separately.
The woman walked up to the сloset that stood in corridor and took out the violin. She started to play.
It was something undescribable! Matthew had never heard such a great play. As if was not an old, blind woman, who played, but skillful master. The woman stopped playing.
- Why don’t you play? – she asked and touched strings with fiddlestick. The young man played obidiently. Their violins merged as if two big waterfalls merge into one vigorous river. Its water was clean, warm and sweet ready to break free and flow into boundless ocean fellings. Time stopped, only music continued to sound. They played till the evening.
Matthew was surprised, why this woman doesn’t ask him anything , she even doesn’t try to hear something, as if she knows everything about him.
- You play well, - she only said, - but in your playing there is so pain and sorrow. I know, it can be one method to get rid of pain, but it is not the way out. I so tired of that too, but I understood at last the following. Even, when I ask: “ Oh, my God, why it is so hard? “ , He continues to love me. Do you understand? It is wonderful to know that you are necessary for someone, that someone loves you, that you are loved by God! He is alongside…always… I cannot see him as cannot see you, but I feel you with my heart. I can talk with Him always, even when I play on the violin. I love Him.
Woman brought the Matthew’s scarf to the her mouth. Yes, those were her parfume.
The fellow went out on the street and breathed in clean, frosty air. It smelled with the leaves of greek nuts. He looked on the sky and smiled. There were many bright stars. The familiar music trembled in the air.
The violin played through the opened window…
• Можлива допомога "Майстерням"
Публікації з назвою одними великими буквами, а також поетичні публікації і((з з))бігами
не анонсуватимуться на головних сторінках ПМ (зі збігами, якщо вони таки не обов'язкові)
Про публікацію