ЛУЧШИЙ ТАНЕЦЪ / THE BEST DANCE
Final Results
33%
1.Редкие антикварные образцы / Rare antique items
33%
2.Рексъ-пексъ! Ляськи-масяськи! И... / Rex-peks! Lyaski-masyaski! And..
34%
3.Отъ Рождества до Рождества / From Christmas day to Christmas day
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ЛУЧШИЙ ЛИПСИНКЪ / THE BEST LIP SYNC
Final Results
28%
1.Первый день зимы намекаетъ… / The first of winter is implying…
56%
2.Отъ создателей «калидора» и «курасана» / From the makers of "fanks" and "brovver"...
16%
3.Первые робкие шаги въ создании словаря / Vladimir Dal, initial steps in making his dictionary
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ЛУЧШАЯ МУЖСКАЯ РОЛЬ / THE BEST ACTOR
Final Results
37%
1.Никита Тау («Особнякъ тайнъ») / Nikita Tau ("The Mansion of Secrets")
38%
2.Кириллъ Щербина («Особнякъ тайнъ») / Kirill Shcherbina ("The Mansion of Secrets")
25%
3.Дмитрий Репинъ («Особнякъ тайнъ») / Dmitry Repin ("The Mansion of Secrets")
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ИмперТанецНадзоръ запрещаетъ ламбаду, мы:
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The Royal Dance Supervisory prohibits dancing lambada, and we go like:
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The Royal Dance Supervisory prohibits dancing lambada, and we go like:
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Игорь Северянинъ - Февраль
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Igor Severyanin - February
February’s frivolous with April,
Cuddling like a mistress to the king.
April is so full of laugh and peril,
Titillating naughty little thing.
Nightly, in the snowy-blue expanses,
Dreaming of nomadic nightingales,
February’s fawn reflective essence
Keeps repeating Springtime’s holy names.
Steaming malachite is hiding willows
(Isn’t that a February sea?),
Covering the shore that softly mellows,
Vanishing within a misty gleam.
Snow is melting, hardening. It’s sun lit,
Shining bright like diamonds only do,
And a grey old pinetree looks down on it,
Arrogant and haughty and aloof.
With the snow all melted – timeless pinetree
Its grey locks shall off it gladly fling.
I can hear a February morn trembling:
Lo! that is a quiver of the Spring!
1918
⚜️⚜️⚜️
Igor Severyanin - February
February’s frivolous with April,
Cuddling like a mistress to the king.
April is so full of laugh and peril,
Titillating naughty little thing.
Nightly, in the snowy-blue expanses,
Dreaming of nomadic nightingales,
February’s fawn reflective essence
Keeps repeating Springtime’s holy names.
Steaming malachite is hiding willows
(Isn’t that a February sea?),
Covering the shore that softly mellows,
Vanishing within a misty gleam.
Snow is melting, hardening. It’s sun lit,
Shining bright like diamonds only do,
And a grey old pinetree looks down on it,
Arrogant and haughty and aloof.
With the snow all melted – timeless pinetree
Its grey locks shall off it gladly fling.
I can hear a February morn trembling:
Lo! that is a quiver of the Spring!
1918
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