
Авторський рейтинг від 5,25 (вірші)
2025.08.18
12:52
Якби мені дано було від Бога
Мать справу з фарбами – не зі словами,
Я б зміг доповнити Чюрльоніса й Ван Гога
У царині, що зветься Деревами.
Я б показав на полотні німому,
Як поспліталися вони в екстазі,
Як посхилялися на тиху перемову,
Часом вчуваю
Мать справу з фарбами – не зі словами,
Я б зміг доповнити Чюрльоніса й Ван Гога
У царині, що зветься Деревами.
Я б показав на полотні німому,
Як поспліталися вони в екстазі,
Як посхилялися на тиху перемову,
Часом вчуваю
2025.08.18
12:36
Дональд Трамп і путін вова
для душевної розмови
з миротворчим номіналом
рандеву запланували.
Прилетіли. Тисли руки.
Видавали ротом звуки.
Злігшись в аморальних хащах,
для душевної розмови
з миротворчим номіналом
рандеву запланували.
Прилетіли. Тисли руки.
Видавали ротом звуки.
Злігшись в аморальних хащах,
2025.08.18
10:56
Пустельників- мовчальників катма,
А пустомель-балакунів до біса.
Для перших світ - для розуму тюрма,
Для других - ґвалт, крикнява парадизна.
Немов на пуп галасував і я,
У перехожих зів'ядали вуха.
Але на тирлі випрозорилась яв:
А пустомель-балакунів до біса.
Для перших світ - для розуму тюрма,
Для других - ґвалт, крикнява парадизна.
Немов на пуп галасував і я,
У перехожих зів'ядали вуха.
Але на тирлі випрозорилась яв:
2025.08.18
06:51
За брамою у Содіз одноріг на два зубці
Дме на флюґельгорні стразові імпровізації
Вінки гвоздикові плетуть нереїди для китів
Нептун танцює хорнпайп, а Саломея ще й стриптиз
Фалос Філ запевнює що має срібний гаш
Та Сучій Семі чує лиш як ниє Втик~алка
Дме на флюґельгорні стразові імпровізації
Вінки гвоздикові плетуть нереїди для китів
Нептун танцює хорнпайп, а Саломея ще й стриптиз
Фалос Філ запевнює що має срібний гаш
Та Сучій Семі чує лиш як ниє Втик~алка
2025.08.18
06:01
Поспішно йде життя моє
В полон лукавого Амура, –
Дедалі ближчою стає
Пора солодкої зажури.
Утіх любовних круговерть
І шквали пристрастей гарячих, –
Узавтра враз наповнять вщерть
Мене неспокоєм збагачень.
В полон лукавого Амура, –
Дедалі ближчою стає
Пора солодкої зажури.
Утіх любовних круговерть
І шквали пристрастей гарячих, –
Узавтра враз наповнять вщерть
Мене неспокоєм збагачень.
2025.08.17
22:08
Я лезом ножа в невідомість іду,
Пірнаю у ризик, немов у безодню.
Жену я наосліп епох череду,
Які зазирнули в спустошену бодню.
У грі випадковостей знак впізнаю,
Простягнутий в полі, як посох прадавній.
В бутті я побачив стрімку течію,
Пірнаю у ризик, немов у безодню.
Жену я наосліп епох череду,
Які зазирнули в спустошену бодню.
У грі випадковостей знак впізнаю,
Простягнутий в полі, як посох прадавній.
В бутті я побачив стрімку течію,
2025.08.17
21:24
Маестро, Вашу музику люблю,
Пливу в її казковім океані.
Круїзи відкриваю кораблю,
В країни чарівливо-несказанні.
Вона мов обіймає нас усіх,
Зворушує душевною красою,
Неначе захищаючи від лих,
Пливу в її казковім океані.
Круїзи відкриваю кораблю,
В країни чарівливо-несказанні.
Вона мов обіймає нас усіх,
Зворушує душевною красою,
Неначе захищаючи від лих,
2025.08.17
20:51
Не спинися, йдучи понад краєм,
Де життя часто сенси втрачає,
Де до болю напружені нерви
І від стогону крок завмирає…
Не спиняйся там попри втому,
Попри ношу тяжку, над вагому,
Попри стерті ущент резерви,
Де життя часто сенси втрачає,
Де до болю напружені нерви
І від стогону крок завмирає…
Не спиняйся там попри втому,
Попри ношу тяжку, над вагому,
Попри стерті ущент резерви,
2025.08.17
17:12
Дивлюсь на те, як Трамп себе веде
І, як не жаль, все більше розумію,
Що, коли хтось на нього мав надії,
Що він до миру світ цей приведе,
То все дарма. Бо Трамп зовсім не той
Месія, що світ буде рятувати.
Скоріше буде світом торгувати.
Адже він – бо
І, як не жаль, все більше розумію,
Що, коли хтось на нього мав надії,
Що він до миру світ цей приведе,
То все дарма. Бо Трамп зовсім не той
Месія, що світ буде рятувати.
Скоріше буде світом торгувати.
Адже він – бо
2025.08.17
08:17
Мрій рожевих світ далекий,
Недосяжний і ясний, –
Звіддаля звучить, мов клекіт
Невідомої весни.
Незглибимий і безпечний
Світ моїх найкращих мрій, –
Світлом ділиться звершечка
І думки лаштує в стрій.
Недосяжний і ясний, –
Звіддаля звучить, мов клекіт
Невідомої весни.
Незглибимий і безпечний
Світ моїх найкращих мрій, –
Світлом ділиться звершечка
І думки лаштує в стрій.
2025.08.16
22:23
О, скільки масок, лиць, гримас, личин!
Для перевтілення немає меж.
Сьогодні - Гамлет, завтра - Арлекін.
Ти роль нову, як душу, обереш.
Ти входиш у новий потік буття,
Змішавши Бога й біса у собі.
І кров тече у ріку каяття,
Для перевтілення немає меж.
Сьогодні - Гамлет, завтра - Арлекін.
Ти роль нову, як душу, обереш.
Ти входиш у новий потік буття,
Змішавши Бога й біса у собі.
І кров тече у ріку каяття,
2025.08.16
21:40
Із Бориса Заходера
Зустрілися Бека та Бука.
З них жодний не видав і звуку.
Обоє стулили пащеки –
мовчали і Бука, і Бека.
І Бука про себе промукав:
Зустрілися Бека та Бука.
З них жодний не видав і звуку.
Обоє стулили пащеки –
мовчали і Бука, і Бека.
І Бука про себе промукав:
2025.08.16
11:11
Заходиш до кімнати із якимось олівцем
Бачиш оголеного і кажеш “Хто є оцей?”
Змагаєшся справді якось ухопити сенс
Що казать прийшов собі додому
Бо щось-то відбувається, а ти не знаєш у чому річ
Слушний
Містер Джонс
Бачиш оголеного і кажеш “Хто є оцей?”
Змагаєшся справді якось ухопити сенс
Що казать прийшов собі додому
Бо щось-то відбувається, а ти не знаєш у чому річ
Слушний
Містер Джонс
2025.08.16
09:23
Літні дні лічені -
насолоджуйся кожним,
повернись обличчям
до краси Божої!
Ось м’ячем-сонцем
у високім небі
довгорукі сосни
насолоджуйся кожним,
повернись обличчям
до краси Божої!
Ось м’ячем-сонцем
у високім небі
довгорукі сосни
2025.08.16
06:52
Правду легко зрозуміти,
Хто б і що не говорив, –
Щастя вічно більше в світі,
Ніж усякої жури.
А коли його багато –
Почуттям не дати стрим, –
Будеш радість виражати,
Нею тішитись затим.
Хто б і що не говорив, –
Щастя вічно більше в світі,
Ніж усякої жури.
А коли його багато –
Почуттям не дати стрим, –
Будеш радість виражати,
Нею тішитись затим.
2025.08.15
21:59
Старий шукає ровесників,
але їх уже більше
у царстві мертвих, а не живих.
З ким йому розмовляти?
Він бачить молодих,
яких зовсім не розуміє.
Як перекинути місток
до померлих? Як відновити
Останні надходження: 7 дн | 30 дн | ...але їх уже більше
у царстві мертвих, а не живих.
З ким йому розмовляти?
Він бачить молодих,
яких зовсім не розуміє.
Як перекинути місток
до померлих? Як відновити
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