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Писатель Владимир Васильев проведет мастер-класс! Приглашаем!

Владимир Васильев — писатель, активист фэндома, автор и исполнитель песен. В соавторстве с Сергеем Лукьяненко написал роман «Дневной дозор». Успешно работает во всех жанрах, существующих в мировой фантастике, —...

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Конкурс поэзии им. Марины Цветаевой. Мастер-класс Виктора Пеленягрэ

Приглашаем поэтов принять участие в уникальном конкурсе им. Марины Цветаевой, посвященной 125-летию со дня ее рождения. Жюри и председатель приемной комиссии известный поэт Виктор Пленягрэ, автор песен «Как упоительны...

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Международный конкурс на участие в книге «Антология Современной Российской Литературы» на болгарском языке. Международная Московская литературная премия: конкурс продолжается!

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Свежий выпуск:№ Russian
Bell 2017

The Russian Bell is a high-profile English magazine

Анастасия ЛЯМИНА | Вступительное слово
The Russian Bell is a high-profile English magazine
Dear readers and authors, you hold in your hands the first issue of the English literary magazine – The Russian Bell. It is a new publication of the British...
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The Great Britannia

Галина АМИРОВА | Поэзия
The Great Britannia
The Great Britannia No-no, the Foggy Albion is not so foggy! It is multicolored, bright, and many-faced. And people feast their eyes from days bygone On arches’ beauty, elegance...
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I’ll stay in your mind

Ольга БАХАРЕВА | Поэзия
I’ll stay in your mind
I’ll stay in your mind Dedicated to Veniamin Ivanov I’ll stay in your mind And turn into Lilith under the moon, I’ll penetrate Through window frames! I’ll steal you...
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My grandfather

Наталья БЕДНАЯ | Поэзия
My grandfather
My grandfather My grandfather filled his pipe with tobacco And looked somewhere over the horizon, Somewhere over the hills covered with forest. He saw in his memories his battlefields....
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The bus

Валерий БЕЛКИН | Проза
The bus
The bus The strong wind took his breath away. Winter didn’t let up, and he was already tired of putting on heavy warm clothes every morning. Spring tricked him,...
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An excerpt from the book “The Mystery of the Enchanted Land”

Галина БЕЛОМЕСТНОВА | Проза
An excerpt from the book “The Mystery of the Enchanted Land”
An excerpt from the book “The Mystery of the Enchanted Land” In the morning, the weather turned bad. The sky covered with gray clouds, prickly powder snow fell down...
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Evening

Сергей БЛИК | Проза
Evening
Evening The little mouse, huddled in the corner of the large room, suddenly remembered the piece of cheese he had hidden not long ago, specifically for such an occasion,...
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Glimmering Ladies

Дмитрий БЫКОВ | Поэзия
Glimmering Ladies
Glimmering Ladies You may have seen those Glimmering Ladies Near towns’ and cities’ bustling shores… Nirvana’s wisdom’s quiet eddies Imbue their dreams with means to soar… Their light is...
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The Portrait

Оксана ЧЕРЕДНИЧЕНКО | Проза
The Portrait
The Portrait I don’t like watches. They are made of metal, and their arrows look like swords in the hands of the executioner. With every tick of them, we...
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Dreaming near the hearth (vers libre)

Елизавета ЧЕРНОВА | Поэзия
Dreaming near the hearth (vers libre)
Dreaming near the hearth (vers libre) I want to be like the wind, To blow out all wounds, I want to be like the snow, To melt down in...
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I fell in love

Алла ДЕМЕНТЬЕВА | Поэзия
I fell in love
I fell in love Today I fell in love with nature, I see the dawn with other eyes, And I descry the flying birds in the sky For the...
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Vitya-the-Good-Soul

Игорь ДЯДЧЕНКО | Проза
Vitya-the-Good-Soul
Vitya-the-Good-Soul His gun was entwined with wire. It seemed a mixture of unfitting parts. “Fellow, can your shotgun fire?” “Its firing range is seventy yards.” Nikolai Nekrasov, “Korobeiniki.”* Chapter 1...
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The old man Nobody

Валентин ЕГОРОВ | Проза
The old man Nobody
The old man Nobody In one neighborhood, in a small town, there lived many different people. Some of them were good and some were not very good, although they...
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An Angel, Who Fell Out Of Heaven

Варис ЕЛЧИЕВ | Проза
An Angel, Who Fell Out Of Heaven
An Angel, Who Fell Out Of Heaven (A screenplay)  1. A dawn breaks over a city. A cleansing truck passes down a street, splashing the asphalt. The street’s pavements...
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«So many different words…»

Елена ФЕДОРОВА | Поэзия
«So many different words…»
*** So many different words Are in the world, So many languages as do. But only one is best for me And only one is best for you. We...
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Girl Cloud in the Pink Hat

Галина ФЕДОРОВА-КОСАРЕВА | Проза
Girl Cloud in the Pink Hat
Girl Cloud in the Pink Hat Girl Cloud in the pink hat broke away from Mommy Cloud and floated across the sky, feeling in a light-hearted mood. The wind...
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Payment

Александр ФИЛАТОВ | Поэзия
Payment
Payment But for some grain give half a house For the motherland a father For a mother and father, get cold, wet earth The war Was a debt we...
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Fateful Experiments

Николай ФИЛИМОНОВ | Проза
Fateful Experiments
Fateful Experiments The absence of the right to become the least intelligent creatures on earth — this is what defines human beings Pushing aside the morning clouds, the bright...
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Reality

Илтифат ГЕЙДАРОВ | Поэзия
Reality
Reality Reality is something else… Why teach reality? When we’re living in disagreement with reality, Any failure to coordinate with it Only makes it more severe. In the end,...
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Beyond the horizon

Татьяна ГЕНИС | Проза
Beyond the horizon
Beyond the horizon Beyond the horizon, above the darkest clouds and bright sun rays sinking into the lake, the ghostly stars shone. They couldn’t yet be seen from the...
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I Am Happy!

Ольга ГОЛЯНДИНА | Поэзия
I Am Happy!
I Am Happy! «Why are you so perfectly pretty?» Unexpectedly you say. — Today I am so very happy, And you came with a rose bouquet! I shine because...
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«I have dreamed of a clear blue-eyed town…»

Геннадий ИСИКОВ | Поэзия
«I have dreamed of a clear blue-eyed town…»
*** I have dreamed of a clear blue-eyed town Crystalline and chantant as a vision. High-rise buildings there stayed around — Clothed in steel, concrete and glass division. And...
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Trial By Fire

Анатолий ИЗОТОВ | Поэзия
Trial By Fire
Trial By Fire I call to mind my first battle as a dream: Our squadron was encircled in a ring, And death impended as the only true, But we...
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Arcadia

Жанна ДЖАРМИН | Проза
Arcadia
Arcadia One day on my way to Arcadia, a beach in Odessa, I passed an overweight woman pushing a pram with a 10-year-old crippled boy in it. Some disease,...
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Blind city (synopsis)

Сергей КАРАМОВ | Проза
Blind city (synopsis)
Blind city (synopsis) The film focuses on the amazing and astonishing adventures of a tourist called Angel. Unexpectedly, he finds himself in a city not designated on the map,...
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The password

Маргарита КАРАНОВА | Поэзия
The password
The password Why are you so large, the earth? Why are you so empty, the earth? We drive for a long time, and drive, and drive, But there are...
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The Horizon

Сергей КИРПИКОВ | Поэзия
The Horizon
The Horizon I am looking at the horizon now. I asked myself since my childhood: Is the happiness beyond the horizon Better than happiness in my neighborhood? Romantic thoughts...
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The moon

Вера КОЛОМЕЙЦЕВА-ФИРОНТИ | Поэзия
The moon
The moon Again, in the window you see, When looking up to the glow, The death-mask of the day Hanging there on a black wall. Distiches Love On a...
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Three Gods in the Eden (To Say Nothing of the Cherubs)

Надежда КОЛЫШКИНА | Проза
Three Gods in the Eden (To Say Nothing of the Cherubs)
Three Gods in the Eden (To Say Nothing of the Cherubs) The Eden, which had been meticulously planned and well-kept in earlier times, looked like an old neglected garden...
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«I trusted her, and she cheated on me…»

Игорь КОНДРАТЬЕВ | Поэзия
«I trusted her, and she cheated on me…»
*** I trusted her, and she cheated on me. Her infidelity overwhelms my emotions. How can I live now? Whom can I love? For whom I should write love...
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The Way

Татьяна КОПЫЛЕНКО | Поэзия
The Way
The Way Dedicated to Alexander Gritsenko The guitar strings wailed, the piano keys wept, The drum was moaning in the agony and rage… Oh my God! We understood too...
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The Book of Another

Александр КРИВОШЕЕВ | Поэзия
The Book of Another
The Book of Another On the outskirts of the soul there is silence, As thoughts dance through minutes of intrigue. Don’t search for the precious, the quiet, A book...
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A thorny path to real democracy

Максим СВИРИДЕНКОВ | Рецензии
A thorny path to real democracy
A thorny path to real democracy Review of Sasha Krugosvetov’s “Dado Island. The Superstitious Democracy” Sasha Krugosvetov DADO ISLAND. THE SUPERSTITIOUS DEMOCRACY Translated by Josephine von Zitzewitz 112pp. 978...
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Angels of Love

Татьяна ЛАПТЕВА | Поэзия
Angels of Love
Angels of Love I told you, “Look at those clouds, Look without averting your eyes. You’ll see, Angels of Love are looking at us From those high skies.” You...
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The harper

Дмитрий ЛАЗАРЕВ | Проза
The harper
The harper (A story) The Vasilievsky Island’s spit slowly empties, though Saint Petersburg usually never sleeps come June: during the white nights, even those inhabitants, used to them, prefer...
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Who but fools?

Роза ЛИСТЬЕВА | Проза
Who but fools?
Who but fools? Two friends were talking while sitting in their van in a traffic jam in London on the hot day. “Yesterday I made a proposal of marriage...
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Rain

Юрий МАКСУДОВ | Поэзия
Rain
Rain The cold of dusk stifles dreary daylight Streams of liquid crowd my window pane Descending darkness hides the rays of sunlight And pulls them downwards, falling with the...
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Birds draw birds

Виктория МАМОНТОВА | Поэзия
Birds draw birds
Birds draw birds birds draw birds in the blue sky: so mission accomplished – why subjectivity isn’t performed, as a free movement and dance? I remember – I had...
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«Of course, we can’t borrow time…»

Наталия МАЗУНИНА | Поэзия
«Of course, we can’t borrow time…»
*** Of course, we can’t borrow time, And we can’t turn back life’s page, And not all of us will grow old and grey, And our faces don’t improve...
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The horses

Георгий МЕДИНЦЕВ | Поэзия
The horses
The horses I see the steppe and the windy day sky. The wide Don River looks asleep. I hear the neighing, I hear the clatter. A herd of horses...
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«Winter is sitting…»

Сергей НОСОВ | Поэзия
«Winter is sitting…»
*** Winter is sitting on the stage made of splayed spruce branches. In the stalls, we are drinking our morning coffee with April sun rays. And we can see...
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«Planes are rising into the sky…»

Анатолий ОБЪЕДКОВ | Поэзия
«Planes are rising into the sky…»
*** Planes are rising into the sky To bomb terrorists from ISIL. It will probably be their hundredth flight. It’s hard to be strong enough for such work. Stars...
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Running

Ирина ОДАРЧУК ПАУЛИ | Поэзия
Running
Running Running along the edge of a chill precipice, Striving to get rid of our diffidence, Daring to look into the deep, To continue on this ambiguous trip. Everyone’s...
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«Your road passes through clouds…»

Ольга ПАШКЕВИЧ | Поэзия
«Your road passes through clouds…»
*** Your road passes through clouds. I’m stuck to the earth as if with glue. I don’t know your way in the sky. I can’t walk in the sky...
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Good night, my beloved city

Валерия ПАВЛОВА | Поэзия
Good night, my beloved city
Good night, my beloved city Good night, my beloved city. Please, turn off your lights, Which illuminate the streets At impenetrable nights. Although wait. I want to enjoy Your...
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The Blood-Red Sky

Сергей ПОПОВ | Проза
The Blood-Red Sky
The Blood-Red Sky “Kurt, where are you?” Dreary and saddened by some obscure woe, Jinn’s voice jerked me out of sleep, hitting me with an instant panic attack. The...
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The Crimean traces of the fair-haired devil

Олёна РОСТОВА | Проза
The Crimean traces of the fair-haired devil
The Crimean traces of the fair-haired devil “Charlotte Backson, the Countess de la Fere, Milady de Winter,” he said, “your crimes have wearied people on earth and God in...
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SERVET

Павел САВИЛОВ | Проза
SERVET
Part One Dulled footsteps broke the silence of the pitch-black dungeon. The bolt slid aside with a clunk and the slimy, damp-ridden oak door opened silently. A yellowish-green burning...
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The New Russian and the Demon

Расим СЕЙФЕТДИНОВ | Драматургия
The New Russian and the Demon
The New Russian* and the Demon (An excerpt from the poem in three acts) The road to hell is paved with good intentions. The New Russian: Semyon Vasilyevich Zadvizhkin....
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Buried juwellery box

Резеда ШАЙХНУРОВА | Проза
Buried juwellery box
Buried juwellery box Historical novel An extract Henry Fellows’ funeral, apart from his neighbors, was attended by his brother Patrick (their father did not show up), his wife Rebecca...
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The mise en scene of death:

Владимир ШЕМЕТ | Поэзия
The mise en scene of death:
The mise en scene of death: I now tear my letters I now move the shelf I lost my own pen. I’ll sign whatever treaty Makes certain that the...
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Yesterday…

Василий МИЩЕНКО, Людмила ШЕВЦОВА | Проза
Yesterday…
  Yesterday… All the events of the story are based on the biography of the honored artist of Russia, director Vasiliy Konstantinovich Mishchenko.  The real names of heroes are...
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The Birth of Verses

Виктория ШУЛИКА | Поэзия
The Birth of Verses
The Birth of Verses In servitude to muses, there comes a brake, That leads to tightening of torment’s screw. How much archery practice does it take, For inspiration to...
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Most important

Анна ШУВАЛОВА | Проза
Most important
Most important — I don’t want to hear it! I stood here waiting for you and you were not only late, but didn’t even call! — yelled the girl...
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Seine

Игорь СИНИЦИН | Проза
Seine
Seine (An excerpt from a novel) …A gang of fishermen had finished casting their seine by sixteen o’clock. The wind that hindered the work all morning finally went away,...
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A new best friend

Александр СНИТКО | Поэзия
A new best friend
A new best friend Everyone gets hurt; it is a common rule, No one is happy like in fairy-tales forever. Who does believe that there is justice is a...
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The snow is whirling

Валентина СОЛОМОНОВА | Проза
The snow is whirling
The snow is whirling It’s winter. Streets, houses and everything is shrouded in snow. Today, it’s snowing all day. In the light of lanterns, the snowflakes are whirling as...
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Gold epaulettes glittered

Александр СТЕПАНОВ | Поэзия
Gold epaulettes glittered
Gold epaulettes glittered Gold epaulettes glittered. The aroma of wax filled the night. The young cornet and the lady Waltzed by candlelight. They waltzed, waltzed, waltzed. It seemed, they...
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Springtime Resurrection

Александр СТОЯНОВ | Поэзия
Springtime Resurrection
Springtime Resurrection And snows were thawing, And old ice was shedding tears, Bright heavens looked down smiling and untroubled, The heart’s moan filled the space between the ribs The...
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AGAY, ONLY EIGHTEEN OF US ARE LEFT

Дуйшон СУЛТАНКУЛОВ | Проза
AGAY, ONLY EIGHTEEN OF US ARE LEFT
AGAY, ONLY EIGHTEEN OF US ARE LEFT I was at the bus station. I came to the village on unsettled matters. Times had changed. There was no help from...
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The prayer

Людмила ТЫМЧУК | Поэзия
The prayer
The prayer I beg you, Lord, keep me on my way, And open for me Your doors to the sunshine, Give me a chance to reach Your love, And...
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The Spring in Amsterdam

Яна ВАРШАВСКАЯ | Поэзия
The Spring in Amsterdam
The Spring in Amsterdam I see three Saint Andrew’s Crosses Of the Amsterdam’s flag in the sky. I see the water of the canals. It’s spring, and my soul...
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Blessed is he who felt the Spiritual Hunger

Вадим ЗАЙЦЕВ | Поэзия
Blessed is he who felt the Spiritual Hunger
Blessed is he who felt the Spiritual Hunger “Blessed is he who in his youth was truly youthful, Blessed is he who has matured in his time.” A.S. Pushkin...
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A wreath to an artist

Лариса ЗУБАКОВА | Поэзия
A wreath to an artist
A wreath to an artist 1. Well, first you need to live this life, oh, Artist, guarding pace of time, of poetry resplendent halls soaring over tides of life....
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