You don't love me, you don't regret me,
Am I not a little handsome?
Without looking in the face, you are thrilled with passion,
He placed his hands on my shoulders.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I am neither gentle nor rude with you.
Tell me how many people have you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know they passed by like shadows
Without touching your fire,
You sat on the knees of many,
And now you're sitting here with me.

Let your eyes be half closed
And you're thinking about someone else
I don’t really love you very much myself,
Drowning in the distant dear.

Don't call this ardor fate
A frivolous hot-tempered connection, -
How I met you by chance,
I smile, calmly walking away.

Yes, and you will go your own way
Sprinkle joyless days
Just don’t touch those who haven’t been kissed,
Just don’t lure those who haven’t been burned.

And when with another in the alley
You'll walk by chatting about love
Maybe I'll go for a walk
And we will meet again with you.

Turning your shoulders closer to the other
And leaning down a little,
You will tell me quietly: Good evening! I will answer: Good evening, miss.

And nothing will disturb the soul,
And nothing will make her tremble, -
He who loved cannot love,
You can't set fire to someone who's burned out.
(my favorite poem)

Translation of the lyrics of the song Yesenin - You don’t love me, don’t regret me

You don't love me, no regrets,
Am I a little handsome?
Without looking at the face, with passion thrilled,
Me his hands on his shoulders lowering.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I"m not gentle and not rude.
Tell me, how many did you caress?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know - they passed like shadows,
Without referring to your fire,
Many of you sat on her knees,
And now I"m sitting here at my place.

Let your eyes
And you think about someone else,
I love you not,
Sinking in far expensive.

The heat don't call destiny,
Legadema violent communication, -
As accidentally met with them,
Will smile, calmly separating.

Yes and you"ll be on your way
Spraying joyless days
Just never been kissed don't touch,
Not only negerevich Mani.

And when the other lane
You go, talking about love,
Maybe I"ll go out for a walk
And with them we will meet again.

Loosening the shoulders closer to another
And leaning down a little,
You say quietly: Good evening! I will reply: Good evening, miss.

And there the soul will not be disturbed,
And nothing will not abandon the creeps -
Who loved, so the love can't,
Who was burned, nothing can burn.
(my favorite poem)

The text of Yesenin’s poem “You don’t love me, you don’t regret me” cannot leave anyone indifferent. The poet wrote this touching lyrical poem, permeated with a feeling of bitterness and regret about wasted years, shortly before his tragic and mysterious death - December 4, 1925. The lyrics of this period of his work are distinguished by fatalistic notes. The poem “You don’t love me, you don’t regret me” is no exception.

Researchers believe that the poet dedicated the work to Olga Kobtsova, with whom he was captivated at the dawn of his poetic fame. At this time, Sergei Yesenin lived in Batumi, where he often met with “Miss Ol”. The girl was a very flighty person, they didn’t have any relationship, but for some reason it was the poet who remembered her in his saddest times. In the poem, the poet’s lyrical hero seems to draw a parallel between his wild life and the empty existence of the moth girl. At the end of the work, a scene of a meeting between former partners appears, in which they pretend that they barely know each other. This meeting has absolutely no effect on the feelings of the characters: she never knew how to love, and he lost this ability after getting close to her and burned out.

Love is given to people as a special gift, as a talent. And you can't waste it in vain. Yesenin thinks so. To read this philosophical sketch, you can download the poem “You don’t love me, you don’t regret me” on our website.

You don't love me, you don't regret me,
Am I not a little handsome?
Without looking in the face, you are thrilled with passion,
He placed his hands on my shoulders.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I am neither gentle nor rude with you.
Tell me how many people have you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know they passed like shadows
Without touching your fire,
You sat on the knees of many,
And now you're sitting here with me.

Let your eyes be half closed
And you're thinking about someone else
I don’t really love you very much myself,
Drowning in the distant dear.

Don't call this ardor fate
A frivolous hot-tempered connection, -
How I met you by chance,
I smile, calmly walking away.

Yes, and you will go your own way
Sprinkle joyless days
Just don’t touch those who haven’t been kissed,
Just don’t lure those who haven’t been burned.

And when with another in the alley
You'll walk by chatting about love
Maybe I'll go for a walk
And we will meet again with you.

Turning your shoulders closer to the other
And leaning down a little,
You will tell me quietly: “Good evening!”
I will answer: “Good evening, miss.”

And nothing will disturb the soul,
And nothing will make her tremble, -
He who loved cannot love,
You can't set fire to someone who's burned out.

Sergey Yesenin
x x x

You don't love me, you don't regret me,
Am I not a little handsome?
Without looking in the face, you are thrilled with passion,
He placed his hands on my shoulders.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I am neither gentle nor rude with you.
Tell me how many people have you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know they passed by like shadows
Without touching your fire,
You sat on the knees of many,
And now you're sitting here with me.

Let your eyes be half closed
And you're thinking about someone else
I don’t really love you very much myself,
Drowning in the distant dear.

Don't call this ardor fate
A frivolous hot-tempered connection, -
How I met you by chance,
I smile, calmly walking away.

Yes, and you will go your own way
Sprinkle joyless days
Just don’t touch those who haven’t been kissed,
Just don’t lure those who haven’t been burned.

And when with another in the alley
You'll walk by chatting about love
Maybe I'll go for a walk
And we will meet again with you.

Turning your shoulders closer to the other
And leaning down a little,
You will tell me quietly: “Good evening!”
I will answer: “Good evening, miss.”

And nothing will disturb the soul,
And nothing will make her tremble, -
He who loved cannot love,
You can't set fire to someone who's burned out.

Yesenin Sergei Alexandrovich (1895-1925)

Yesenin! Golden name. Murdered youth. Genius of the Russian land! None of the Poets who came into this world had such spiritual strength, enchanting, omnipotent, soul-grabbing childish openness, moral purity, deep pain-love for the Fatherland! So many tears were shed over his poems, so many human souls sympathized and empathized with every Yesenin line, that if it were counted, Yesenin’s poetry would outweigh any and much more! But this method of assessment is not available to earthlings. Although from Parnassus one could see that the people have never loved anyone so much! With Yesenin’s poems they went into battle in the Patriotic War, for his poems they went to Solovki, his poetry excited souls like no other... Only the Lord knows about this holy love of the people for their son. Yesenin’s portrait is squeezed into wall family photo frames, placed on the shrine along with icons...
And not a single Poet in Russia has ever been exterminated or banned with such frenzy and tenacity as Yesenin! And they banned, and kept silent, and belittled, and threw mud at us - and they are still doing this. It is impossible to understand why?
Time has shown: the higher Poetry is in its secret lordship, the more embittered the envious losers are, and the more imitators there are.
Another great gift of God from Yesenin - he read his poems as uniquely as he created them. They sounded like that in his soul! All that remained was to say it. Everyone was shocked by his reading. Please note, great Poets have always been able to read their poems uniquely and by heart - Pushkin and Lermontov... Blok and Gumilyov... Yesenin and Klyuev... Tsvetaeva and Mandelstam... So, young gentlemen, a poet mumbling his lines on a piece of paper from the stage is not a Poet, but an amateur... A poet may not be able to do many things in his life, but not this!
The last poem, “Goodbye, my friend, goodbye...” is another secret of the Poet. In the same year, 1925, there are other lines: “You don’t know that life in the world is worth living!”

Yes, in the deserted city alleys, not only stray dogs, “lesser brothers,” but also big enemies listened to Yesenin’s light gait.
We must know the real truth and not forget how childishly his golden head was thrown back... And again his last wheeze is heard:

“My dears, good ones...”

You don't love me, you don't regret me,
Am I not a little handsome?
Without looking in the face, you are thrilled with passion,
He placed his hands on my shoulders.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I am neither gentle nor rude with you.
Tell me how many people have you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know they passed by like shadows
Without touching your fire,
You sat on the knees of many,
And now you're sitting here with me.

Let your eyes be half closed
And you're thinking about someone else
I don’t really love you very much myself,
Drowning in the distant dear.

Don't call this ardor fate
A frivolous hot-tempered connection, -
How I met you by chance,
I smile, calmly walking away.

Yes, and you will go your own way
Sprinkle joyless days
Just don’t touch those who haven’t been kissed,
Just don’t lure those who haven’t been burned.

And when with another in the alley
You'll walk by chatting about love
Maybe I'll go for a walk
And we will meet again with you.

Turning your shoulders closer to the other
And leaning down a little,
You will tell me quietly: Good evening! I will answer: Good evening, miss.

And nothing will disturb the soul,
And nothing will make her tremble, -
He who loved cannot love,
You can't set fire to someone who's burned out.
(my favorite poem)

Translation

You don't love me, no regrets,
Am I a little handsome?
Without looking at the face, with passion thrilled,
Me his hands on his shoulders lowering.

Young, with a sensual grin,
I"m not gentle and not rude.
Tell me, how many did you caress?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know - they passed like shadows,
Without referring to your fire,
Many of you sat on her knees,
And now I"m sitting here at my place.

Let your eyes
And you think about someone else,
I love you not,
Sinking in far expensive.

The heat don't call destiny,
Legadema violent communication, -
As accidentally met with them,
Will smile, calmly separating.

Yes and you"ll be on your way
Spraying joyless days
Just never been kissed don't touch,
Not only negerevich Mani.

And when the other lane
You go, talking about love,
Maybe I"ll go out for a walk
And with them we will meet again.

Loosening the shoulders closer to another
And leaning down a little,
You say quietly: Good evening! I will reply: Good evening, miss.

And there the soul will not be disturbed,
And nothing will not abandon the creeps -
Who loved, so the love can't,
Who was burned, nothing can burn.
(my favorite poem)

Young, with a sensual grin,
I am neither gentle nor rude with you.
Tell me how many people have you caressed?
How many hands do you remember? How many lips?

I know they passed by like shadows
Without touching your fire,
You sat on the knees of many,
And now you're sitting here with me.

Let your half-closed eyes
And you're thinking about someone else
I don’t really love you very much myself,
Drowning in the distant dear.

Don't call this ardor fate
A frivolous hot-tempered connection, -
How I met you by chance,
I smile, calmly walking away.

Yes, and you will go your own way
Sprinkle joyless days
Just don’t touch those who haven’t been kissed,
Just don’t lure those who haven’t been burned.

And when with another in the alley
You'll walk away talking about love,
Maybe I'll go for a walk
And we will meet again with you.

Turning your shoulders closer to the other
And leaning down a little,
You will tell me quietly: “Good evening...”
I will answer: “Good evening, miss.”

And nothing will disturb the soul,
And nothing will make her tremble, -
He who loved cannot love,
You can't set fire to someone who's burned out.