Silver Age. All that you wanted, but were afraid to ask.
Lyrics, poetry ... It's amazing how rhymed lines help us live.
Great poets, like deep caves, have a rolling, sonorous echo. Raznositsya for a century zychnym rumble.
Feel yourself in the drawing room of the Silver Age, where poets gathered and read their great poems. Who will appear in person, someone will send "news". Silver age, silver souls, precious ...
Suffering overflowed and left. They themselves have long gone. Here's the magic - feel it all on yourself. Here and now.
Time hooligans, rebels and desperate romantics. They took everything from life.
They loved each time, as the last time. Hated each time, as last time. And every day they lived like the last.
To plunge headlong into the world of the poet, to look at the world with his eyes. Where is the truth, and where is the fruit of the imagination of creative genius? There is no border, and one smoothly flows into another.
