Эссе на тему: Money doesn't grow on trees.I agree with the statement that money doesn't grow on trees. Nowadays it is not so easy to get money. If you want to have money you must find a job. You must also work hard at school and university. There are many kinds of jobs: a teacher, an engineer, a programmer et cetera. You must find not only a highly-paid but also a suitable job. For example when a person is good at mathematics he cannot become a historian. He can become a teacher who teaches pupils maths. Although a teacher is not a highly-paid job but it is suitable and interesting for the people who know a subject. If you want to have a job with a good salary you must study well at school. All your future depends on it. In conclusion I want to say that money is very valuable nowadays and you must not waste your time and work hard.
FRIENDSHIP
Long have you lived and, still content
To shelter from life’s storms,
You cannot name a single friend
To whom your lone heart warms.
When years have passed and you are old,
People will turn and say:
«He lived a century, poor soul,
Who never lived a day.»
Или Журавли. Я бы его и выбрала, если честно
THE CRANES
(Translation of Rasul Gamzatov’s 1976 poem)
It seems to me sometimes that soldiers fallen,
Whom bloody battlefields have rendered dead,
Were buried not in soil to be forgotten,
But turned into white cranes in flight instead.
From that time, since their fate became a coffin
They’ve soared, and issued us a strident cry.
Is that not why we sadly, and so often,
Lift up our silent gaze when cranes go by?
Today, as evening yields to nightfall’s border,
I see the cranes in flight, their wings unfurled,
As over fields they fly in perfect order
Just as they marched, when people in the world
They fly—their line extending to forever—
And call out names of someone to the cold.
Is that not why the song of cranes has never
Been far from Avar speech since times of old?
The weary wedge of birds on expedition—
It flies and flies through fog, towards the dawn,
And in the ranks I notice a position--
An empty space for me, for when I’m gone!
Some day in that formation I’ll be flying;
I’ll sail into the skies on my rebirth,
And from the heav’ns with crane trump I’ll be crying
To those of you I left upon the earth