Poems and Verses

3 hrs. 33 min.

Poetry

Language Russian

Author Sergei Yesenin

Narrators Valery Zolotukhin, Veniamin Smekhov, Sergey Nikonenko, Mikhail Ulyanov, Kirill Lavrov, Yuriy Bogatyrev

Narrator Valery Zolotukhin

Narrator Veniamin Smekhov

Narrator Sergey Nikonenko

Narrator Mikhail Ulyanov

Narrator Kirill Lavrov

Narrator Yuriy Bogatyrev

Description

This collection includes the best lyrics of Sergey Yesenin—from the tragic “Black Man” and the furious “Pugachev” to the tender “Persian Motifs” and poems that became well-known romances (“Maple,” “The Golden Grove Has Spoken,” “I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry”). Recognized masterpieces of Russian poetry are performed by such masters as Mikhail Ulyanov, Valery Zolotukhin, Kirill Lavrov, and Veniamin Smehov. The poems “Pugachev” and “Anna Snegina” are presented as poetic dramatizations.

Contents:

Anna Snegina
Pugachov
Poems:
Maple
Small woodlands, steppe and distances — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
We are leaving now, little by little — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry? — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
The golden grove has spoken — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
You bastard son — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
Are you just as simple? — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
I walk down the valley — read by Mikhail Ulyanov
On a red evening, the road wondered — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
The winds don’t blow in vain — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Wake me tomorrow early — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
I believe, I believe—happiness is there — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Here it is, that stupid happiness — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
How good it is with the freshness of autumn — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
I left the native home — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Unspeakable, blue, tender — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Blue May, dawn warmth — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
I remember — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Don’t look at me with reproach — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Listen—sleds are rushing, listen—sleds are rushing — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
My road — read by Yuriy Bogatyryov
Shagané, my Shagané!… There are such doors in Khorasan
My old wound has healed
Blue homeland of Firdausi
Don’t beat, silly heart
The red wings of sunset are fading
I go by the first snow
The golden foliage has whirled
A blue fire has burst into bloom
It is clear—it is ordained forever
Life—deception with enchanting sorrow
The wind sings, silver wind
I have never been to the Bosphorus
The moon’s cold gold
The dear one’s hands” — a pair of swans
Why does the moon shine so dimly
Blue and cheerful country
Beloved land
Woven on a lake
Low house with blue shutters
The reed grass sleeps
Glorious publisher
Black man