Images of broken noses. Broken Nose: Stock Photos, Royalty-Free Images, Graphics, Vectors & Videos
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To address a common question, where can you find high-quality images of broken noses? The answer is that there is a vast collection of broken nose stock photos, royalty-free images, graphics, vectors, and videos available online. These visual assets can be easily accessed and downloaded for a variety of commercial, editorial, and personal uses.
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These broken nose images can be particularly useful for healthcare professionals, journalists, and designers who require accurate and visually compelling representations of broken noses. The availability of royalty-free and commercially-licensed images makes them suitable for various commercial applications, such as advertising, web design, and product packaging.
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Broken nose Free Stock Photos, Images, and Pictures of Broken nose
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Broken Nose Stock Photos and Images
Headshot portrait of handsome young man close upPREMIUM
Portrait of man with gesture for silence – monocrome or black and white portraitPREMIUM
A dark-skinned man in a white thsirt closing his nisePREMIUM
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Headache. a dark-skinned young man suffering from a headachePREMIUM
An extreme close-up on a young boys lips as he offers a kissPREMIUM
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Close up male hand touches his beardPREMIUM
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Young attractive man in blue shirt amazed in shock covering his mouth with hand and looking at camera against grey background. the sign of silencePREMIUM
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Face expressionPREMIUM
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Eye clinicPREMIUM
Sad african-american man removing tape from mouth on dark background. stop racismPREMIUM
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Sinus ache causing very paintful headache. unhealthy woman in pain. sharp strong sore.PREMIUM
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Studio portrait of young man in black shirt, holding hands in chin, looking down with humility.PREMIUM
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A young male with a pimple or acne directly on the middle of his nose between both eyes. close up portrait of a man’s nose with a huge pimple on his skin.PREMIUM
Adult man brushing his teeth looking at his bathroom mirror during morning hygiene routine.PREMIUM
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Portrait close-up of sad and desperate businessmanPREMIUM
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I can feel a sneeze coming on. a designer suffering with allergies in an office.PREMIUM
Close up: a girl’s face is peeking out from a cutout in a large sheet of kraft paper.PREMIUM
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comics, gif animation, video, the best intellectual humor.
He himself stands with a funnel next to him
And in front of the boys,
Turning to that projectile,
Relieved himself of a small need …Sees Terkin’s cellar –
Isn’t the cannon firing from there?
Passed the spool to the fighters:
– You – go ahead. And I’m around.Immediately moved a grenade through the door.
Jumped down, disappeared in the smoke.
– Officers and soldiers,
Come out one at a time!..Silence. Stripe of light.
What’s next – we’ll see.
No one seems to be there.
Nobody. And I’m alone.The rumble of bursts, like in a barrel,
Resounds in the depths.
The case is rubbish: other points
Beat on busy. As for me.They beat well, no doubt,
Remember with a kind word
At least for the fact that this cellar
They did it firmly.Solidly done, reliable –
It’s not like fighting here,
Here, guys, you can drink tea,
Let out a wall newspaper.Looked around, as if in the hut:
The stove is warm in the corner,
There are shelves along the wall,
Banks, flasks on the floor.Unusual, unlike
The spirit of habitable habitation:
Tobacco, clothes, leather
And soldier’s underwear.Will they turn around again? Well,
On the defensive today – I-.
At the sight entrance and exit,
Two grenades at hand.The fire has ceased. And it became quiet.
And they go – one, the other…Terkin, stop. Breathe evenly.
Terkin, let me get closer.
Terkin, aim. Bay rather,
Terkin. Heart, not parts.If only I could tell you guys,
Don’t believe your eyes,
Like a German soldier
I saw him alive in two steps.He approached in something white,
Bending down from the fire,
And as if he was doing something:
He was coming towards me – to kill me.Into this ditch, as if from the stove,
I began to descend on my back…Terkin, my friend, don’t misfire.
You will be lost – keep in mind.A second before the break,
Know, wanted to set an example;Quickly jumped straight into the ditch
An officer in a sheepskin coat.And rose up untouched,
Whole. We are waiting for the joint.,
Officer – with a pistol,
Terkin – in the soft – with a bayonet.He himself sat down, sat down quietly.
Led him lightly.
Touched the right shoulder.
Wounded. Wet. Hot.And touched the floor with his hand;
Blood – someone else’s or one’s own?Another hit after him,
And suddenly it became darker.“These are ours, – the guy understood, –
Ours are beating, – now it’s a skiff.”Stunned by the heavy roar,
Terkin bows his head.
Tula, Tula, what are you, Tula,
Right there, your fighter is alive.He is sitting behind the wall of the bunker,
Blood is flowing, his sleeve is tucked up.
Tula, Tula, reluctance
He should die like this.On the floor in a cold hole
Reluctance to do anything
Die with wet feet,
With my sore shoulder.It’s a pity for that life, bait,
I want to live a little,
At least warm myself on a couch,
At least dry my footcloths…Terkin wilted. Tosca bent.
Tula, Tula. .. What are you, Tula?
Tula, Tula. It’s me…
Tula… My Motherland! From the east
Tanks were coming.Low-chested, flat-bottomed,
Weighted by itself,
With a cannon aimed at the soul,
The tank going into battle is scared.And behind the rumble and thunder,
They sit behind steel armor,
They sit in their places, like at home,
Three or four acquaintances
Our short-haired guys.And let it be in battle for the first time,
But the guys – pass the light,
Catch in the viewing slots
Edge of the field ahead.They see – the broken one reared up,
The twisted roll.
Beat hard. The target is covered.
Well, what if they sit there!Maybe quiet before the deadline
Is the gun crewed?
Turn the car sideways –
Armor-piercing fire.Or a German with a machine gun,
Climbing outside is not a fool,
Watching our brother there,
Waiting. How not.Two following the commander
Down – with a grenade – along the wall.
Silence.- The corners are dark…– Boys, the apartment is occupied, –
They suddenly hear from the depths.Not deceit, not enemy jokes,
True voice, native:
– Help. It’s been a day
The point given for me…In the dark, in the corner of the closet,
On the floor is a fighter covered in blood.
Who is this? But Terkin fell silent,
Whatever you want, call me that.He lies with a sallow face,
He won’t blink even if his eyes are broken.
Just in time, his tankmen
Picked him up, took him.A car was driving in a snow haze,
Terkin was driving without roads.
And held him in an embrace
Lad – a tower shooter.He covered with his clothes,
He warmed with his breath. It doesn’t matter,
What’s in his eyes, perhaps,
He will never see …Pass the light – you won’t find it anywhere,
I never happened to see
Friendship of that saint and purer,
What happens in war.ABOUT THE AWARD
– No, guys, I’m not proud.
Without thinking into the distance,
So I will say: why do I need an order?
I agree to a medal.For a medal. And that is not in a hurry.
That would have ended the war,
If only I had come on vacation
To my native side.Will I still be alive? – Hardly.
Fight here, don’t guess.
But I’ll tell you about the medal:
Give it to me then.Provide, since I am worthy.
And you all must understand:The matter is the simplest –
A man came from the war.Here I come from the stop
To my dear village council.
I came, and here is a party.
No party? Okay, no.I’m in another collective farm and in the third –
The whole district is in plain sight.
I’ll go somewhere in the village council
I’ll go to a party.And, having come to the party,
Though not a proud person,
I would not smoke shag,
And I would get “Kazbek”.And I would sit, guys,
Just there, my friends,
Where as a kid I hid under the bench
My bare feet.I would smoke a cigarette,
I would treat everyone around.
And all sorts of questions
I wouldn’t answer all of a sudden.– Like what? – Anything happened.
– Is it difficult yet? – Like when.
– Many times went on the attack?
– Yes, it happened sometimes.And the girls at the party
Forget all the guys,
Only the girls would listen,
How the belts creak on me.And I would joke with everyone,
And there would be one among them…
And a medal for this time
I, friends, need it so much!A girl is waiting, at least don’t torment me,
Words, your look…– But, let me, in this case,
Is the Order okay too?
Here you are sitting at the party,
And the girl is the color.– No, – said Vasily Terkin
And sighed. And again: – No.
No, guys. What is the order.
Not thinking into the distance,
I told you I’m not proud,
I agree to a medal.x x x
Terkin, Terkin, kind fellow,
What is laughter and what is sadness.
You have guessed a lot, friend,
You have guessed far into the distance.There were leaves, there were buds,
Buds became foliage again.
But the mail does not carry letters
To your native Smolensk region.Where are the girls, where are the parties?
Where is my dear village council?
You know yourself, Vasily Terkin,
That there is no road there.No road, no right
To visit my native village.A terrible battle is going on, bloody,
A mortal battle is not for the sake of glory,
For the sake of life on earth.HARMONY
Along the frontline road,
Belted, as in the ranks,
A soldier was walking in a new overcoat,
He was catching up with his rifle regiment,
His first company.He walked easily and even bravo
For such a reason,
That he waved his right,
Like his left hand.Retired. And besides,
Frost clicked through the forest,
Pinched tighter on the way,
Adjusted, carried under the armpits.Suddenly – a signal around the corner,
The driver threw the door,
Brakes:
– Sit down, infantry,
Snow would rub your cheeks.Is it far?
– Back to the front.
Healed the hand.
– Understood.
Not a hero?
– Not yet.
– Get out the pouch then.They smoke, they drive. The coffin is the road.
Between the snowdrifts – a tunnel.
Hardly anything, if you turn a little,
When you turn, take off your overcoat.– Well – as there is a shovel.
– Good, otherwise it’s trouble.
– Good – my guys.
– Well, yes, how when.Three-ton truck rumbles,
Suddenly the column is ahead.
Whether you are on foot or on horseback,
And with a car – stop and wait.Make good use of the parking lot.
A conversation is not a conversation.
Bent over the steering wheel, –
The driver fell silent,
The driver fell asleep.How many days half-asleep,
How many miles in a blizzard blind
On the roads brought
He left behind an oboe …From a dense forest edge
To an invisible river –
Tanks, kitchens, cannons stood up,
Tractors, trucks,
Cars – crooked, oblique,
In a row, not in a row, back and forth,
Caterpillars and wheels
Still squealing in the snow .In the vastness the wind is harsh,
Evil frost near the iron,
Blows into the soul, enters the chest –
Do not touch it somehow.– That’s the trouble: in the whole column
There is no accordion that is overwhelmed,
And the frost – neither stand nor sit down …He took off his gloves, rubs his palms,
Suddenly he hears:
– There is an accordion.Kneading grainy snow,
Alternating – dance not dance –
Two tankers near the tank
Warming their feet in reserve.– Who has the accordion guys?
– Yes, she’s here, brother … –
He looked guiltily
At the driver of the shooter.– Would you like to play the track?
– Yes, to play – it is not harmful.
– What’s the matter? Whose harmonica?
– Whose it was, brother, no …And the driver already said
Instead of his friend:
– Our commander was an amateur…
We buried him.– So…- With an awkward smile
The fighter looked around,
As if he had made a mistake,
Reluctantly offended suddenly.Explains carefully,
To end the speech there:
– I thought it was possible to play it,
I thought, why take care of it.A shooter:
– Here in this tower
He was sitting in yesterday’s battle…
Three – we were friends.– Yes, it’s impossible, it’s impossible.
I can understand myself,
I am the second, brother, war…
And I have a wound,
And one shell shock.
And again – judge –
Maybe tomorrow – from the spot to the battle …
– You know what, – said the driver, –
Well, play you fool with you.Only a fighter took a three-row,
You can immediately see – an accordionist.
To begin with, for the sake of order
I threw my fingers from top to bottom.Forgotten countryside
Suddenly turned on, closing his eyes,
Sides of his native Smolensk
Sad memorable motif,And from that old harmonica,
That I was left an orphan,
Somehow it suddenly became warmer
On the front line road.From the frosty cars
People were walking as if on fire.
And who cares,
Who is playing, whose accordion.Only two of those tankers,
That driver and gunner,
Everyone is looking at the accordion player –
As if something was not clear.Something seems to the guys,
Dust is spinning in the snow.
As if they had seen each other once,
As if they had given me a ride somewhere…And, quickly changing fingers,
He, as if on order,
Here he told a story about three tankmen,
Three comrades.Isn’t it about them word for word,
Isn’t the whole song about that.
And look down sternly
Friends wearing leather helmets.A fighter calls somewhere,
Far away, easily leading.
– Oh, what are you all guys,
Still young people.I wouldn’t say anything else, –
I’ll take care of myself.
I wouldn’t play like that, –
It’s a pity that I can’t do better.I forgot myself for a minute,
Played on the go,
And let me play a joke
I’ll translate all this.Warm up, push around
Everyone goes to the accordionist.
Surround.
– Stop, brothers,
Let me blow on my hands.– The guy froze his fingers, –
Need an ambulance help.– You know, give up these waltzes,
Give me the one that…And again, down with the glove,
Looked at the good fellow
And as if that three-row
Turned the other end.And forgotten – not forgotten,
It’s not the time to remember,
Where and who is dead
And who else is lying.And to whom the grass of the living
Then trample on the ground,
Come to the wife, to the house, –
Where is the wife and where is that house?Dancers for a couple couple
They suddenly rushed from their place.
I breathed in frosty steam,
A tight circle warmed up.– Have fun, ladies!
Don’t step on your toes!And the same driver runs,
Fearing to be late.Whose breadwinner, whose drinker,
Where did you come to court?
He shouted so that they parted:– Give it to me, otherwise I’ll die!
As if on a holiday in the evening
The floorboards are oppressed in the hut,
Rhymes, sayings
Throws under his feet.Serves a piece:
– Oh, it’s a pity that there is no knock,
Oh, friend,
If only there was a knock,
If suddenly –
Paved circle!
If only to discard boots,
Shoe on a heel,
Print so that immediately
That heel is a skiff!And the accordion is calling somewhere,
It leads far, easily…No, what are you all guys,
Amazing people.If only there was something for these guys,
From the spot – into the water and into the fire.
Everything that can be in the world,
At least something – the accordion is buzzing.
Speaks clearly,
Brings the sound to the soul.
And two tankers said
to the accordion player:
– You know, friend…
Are we not familiar with you?
Isn’t it you, brother,
I remember something, from the battle
We delivered to the sanitary battalion?,
All the clothes were covered in blood,
And you asked you to drink and drink . ..Muffled the accordion:
– Well, then ,
Very possibly.– We are now under repair.
Your route is different.
– That’s for sure…
– And the accordion,
You know what, take it with you.Take away, play hunting,
In this business you are a master,
Have fun with your infantry.
– What are you guys, how is it? ..– Nothing, – said the driver, –
So be it. Nothing.
Our commander was an amateur,
This is a memory of him…And from the distant edge
Because of a thousand wheels
From end to end of the column:
“By cars!” – it came.And again ridges, hillocks,
Snow and Christmas trees on both sides…
Vasya Terkin goes on, –
It was, of course, he.TWO SOLDIERS
A blizzard-zavirukha in the field,
A war is buzzing three miles away.
Old woman on the stove in the hut,
Grandfather-owner at the window.Mines are exploding. Sound familiar
Resounds in the back.
This means Terkin is at home,
Terkin is at war again.And the old man, as if by ear
Out of habit, does not lead.
– Flight! Lie down, old woman. –
Or he will say:
– Undershoot …On the stove, huddled in a corner,
She watches on the sly
With respectful fright
Behind the old man’s habit,With whom she lived – did not respect,
With whom she scolded on the stove, 9000 3 From whom kept away
Household all the keys.And the old man, dressed in a fur coat
And sitting down to the table with glasses,
Curves his lips as if from a cranberry –
Sharpens an old saw.– It doesn’t cut, sharpen, sharpen,
Doesn’t take, well, what do you want!.. –
Terkin stood up:
– Or maybe, grandfather,
Doesn’t she have a divorce?He takes the saw himself:
– Come on … –
And in his hands saw,
Pike exactly raised,
She led with a sharp back.Led, hung meekly.
Terkin squints:
– Well, here it is.
Look for a divorce, grandfather,
We’ll divorce her.It’s gratifying to look at:
A saw that’s falling apart
It’s all right, it’s so neat
Passed in his hands.Turn around and you’re done.
– Na-ko, grandfather, take it, look.
Will cut better than new,
In vain, don’t measles.And the owner is guilty
Takes a saw from a soldier.
– That’s what we soldiers mean –
Puts it carefully in the corner.A old woman:
– Weak eyes.
Star for years is my soldier.
I’d like to see what’s wrong with the watch,
It’s still standing from that war…,He took off his watch, looking: a car,
It’s like a windmill, in the dust.
Cobwebs of springs
Spiders wrapped around.He hung them up in a new hut
Grandfather-soldier a long time ago:
On a simple pine wall
The spot glows like that.After examining the watch in detail, –
It’s still a watch, not a saw, –
The master quietly and sadly
Whistled:
– Things are bad …But he put it somewhere with an awl,
Looked for something in the dust,
Blowed somewhere inside, spat, –
What do you think, let’s go!Turns the hand, puts the fifth,
Hour – another, forward – backward.
– That’s what we soldiers mean.
The grandfather soldier shed tears.The grandfather is touched, and the old woman,
Pushing his ear back with his palm,
Listening from the stove:
– They’re coming!
– What a guy, what a jester…Surprised. And the guy
is not averse to serving yet.
– Maybe the fat should be fried?
So again I can help.Then the old woman groaned:
– Fat, fat! Where is the fat…Terkin:
– Grandmother, the fat is here.
There was no German – so there is!And he added, waiting,
Looking at his feet:
– If you want, grandma, I’ll guess,
Where is it in the hut?Grandmother groaned anxiously,
Imported on the stove.
– God bless you, is it possible…
Shut up, shut up.And the owner is roguish
The guest is under the elbow quietly:
– That’s what we soldiers mean,
But the fat is under lock and key.The old woman fumbles for a key for a long time,
Climbs from the stove, fries bacon
And, suffering to the end,
Breaks two eggs.Oh, scrambled eggs! Snacks
There is nothing more useful and stronger.
Required in Russian
Drink a cup in front of her.– Well, master, little by little,
One at a time, like in a war.
This is the doctor on track
He gave me health.He unscrewed the lid of the flask:
– Drink, father, there will be no excess.The soldier grandfather choked.
Pulled up:
– Guilty!..Sniffed a crumb of bread.
Chewed – and immediately full.And the fighter, shaking that flask over his ear
, says:
– Arguing whether it’s this or that,
It’s all the same with such a drop
Do not warm the fighter in battle.
Be alive!
– Drink.
– I drink…And they sit like brothers
At the table, shoulder to shoulder.
Soldiers are talking,
They are arguing together, hotly.Grandfather boils:
– Allow me, comrade.
Why are you praising my felt boots?
Let me report.
Good? Where to dry?You won’t dry them in a dugout,
No, you give me boots,
Yes, cloth footcloths
Give me – then I’m a god!Somewhere in the backyard again
The frozen ground was butted by a shell.
Like nothing – Vasily Terkin,
Like nothing – an old soldier.– These things in our life, –
Grandfather boasted, – nothing!
We got fragments even in porridge
We came across. Exactly.
If it hits you, throw it away with a spoon,
And a dead man will hit you.
– But you didn’t know the bombing,
I’ll tell you, father.– That’s right, it’s science,
You can’t argue against it.
And tell me, a simple thing
Do you have any?
– What?
– Louse.And, dipping a crust in the fat,
Continuing to eat evenly,
He smiled like Terkin
And said
– Partially there…– So, there is? Then you are a warrior,
You are worthy to reason with me.
You are a soldier, although you are young,
A soldier is a brother to a soldier.And tell me frankly
Not in jest, but in earnest.
From a military point of view
Answer my question.
Answer: we will beat the German
Or maybe we won’t?– Wait, father, let’s hire,
I’ll have a snack, I’ll tell you later.He ate a lot, but not greedily,
He saluted the appetizer,
It’s all right, it’s so neat,
Look – you want to eat.Cleaned the entire frying pan,
He got up, as if he had suddenly grown up,
And a handkerchief to his chin,
Evenly folded, brought it up.
shook hands neatly
And, as duty dictates in the house,
Bowed to the old woman
And to the soldier himself.
Silently belted himself on the way,
Looked around – is everyone here?
Goodbye to honor,
I looked at my watch: it’s coming!
He remembered everything, checked everything,
He drove it up and at the end
He sighed at the very door
And said:
– We’ll beat you, father…
An old woman is on the stove in the hut.
Grandfather-owner at the window.In the depths of native Russia,
Against the wind, chest forward,
Vasily is walking through the snow
Terkin. The German is going to be beaten.ABOUT THE LOSS
The fighter lost his pouch,
Fawned – no and no.The fighter says:
– Annoying.
So many troubles suddenly fell:
Lost his family. OK.
No, so you have a pouch!Gone somewhere
Lost both the yard and the hut.
Good. And here is the pouch.If only years were young,
But not forty years…
Lost native edges,
Everything in the world and a pouch.Looked longingly around:
– Without a pouch, as if without hands.
In an uncomfortable school house
Guys, not kids.
Not at the desk – on straw,
Frayed like a campfire.Sleeping fighters, who have leisure.
The bearded man grieves aloud:– Without the tobacco pouch
The taste is not the same. Weak!
That’s fate, comrade Terkin.-
Terkin:
– What kind of fate is there!This can happen to anyone –
The bearded man objected, –
Not like me once
There was a case. And then I am silent.And is silent, snoring sternly.
In some places people got up.
Terkin takes out a hat from a duffel bag.Just a fur hat,
That fighting girlfriend,
What sits on the head.
There is one. Where are two from?– They brought me in a tank, –
Terkin started, – they handed me over.
Only I don’t have my earflaps,
I suddenly feel disorder.And not that very chilly, –
I’m just proud.
Therefore, a fighter without a hat -.
Not a fighter. Like no belt.And the girl does the dressing
Gently does it, cautiously,
And, you see, she herself
Green in this matter.– Hat, hat for me, otherwise
I won’t go! – That’s it.
So I scream, almost crying,
The wound was difficult.And she, this girl,
Like “bayushki-bayu”:
– Your hats, – he says, – no,
I’ll give you my hat.Bent over and put on.
– Don’t worry, says
And with her white little hand
She stubbed herself: he was unshaven.How many different hats in my life
I have already worn – you can’t count them,
But this one even has a smell
It’s not like that…– Look, you made up a sign.
– I heard a ringing from afar.
– Why do you keep this hat
?
– Road.Dear fighter, like a memory.
And I can also say
In secret, between us, –
A hat with a purpose to protect.And one fine evening
Suddenly a conversation happens:
“Let me give you a headdress at the meeting
…”Vasily got up from his seat himself
And under the thick laughter of the fighters,
As if on stage, with an important gesture
Addressed as if to that one,
That she said five words to him,
What guys like him,
Bandaged for the war,
Maybe a whole battalion.– Look, what speeches he knows,
From what political conversations:
“Let me meet you …”
There you are. And you are a pussycat.– Well, of course, a single man
Much better in war:
No such homesickness,
For the kids, for the wife.– Single? That’s for sure.
You guessed it.
But believe me, I did it on purpose
Didn’t get married. I, brother, knew!– What did you know! Who else
It would be better to know in advance,
That the soldier will leave home,
And the war will come home.That it will pass like a flood
On the face of the living earth
And make trenches dig
In front of Moscow itself.
What did you know!..
– Wait a minute,
Don’t look small0003 I’m not so much,
Not half as much –
A quarter as much! –
Only knew.– It’s okay that I’m on a collective farm,
I didn’t pass the course in the capital.
It’s a pity, my accordion is in the convoy,
I would read a lecture.Allow me to mention one thing,
My friend and neighbor:
How many years have we lived in the world?
Twenty five! And you are
pouch.Bearded man to the laughter and hubbub
Digging dust-straw again,
Feeling everything around:
– Without a pouch, like without hands …– Without a pouch, no doubt,
You’re not the same fighter anymore.
Since the pouch is a military item,
Wow, won’t it fit?Accept, I’m a kind guy.
I’m not sorry. I won’t get lost.
They will give me five more pieces
In the coming year,He takes a shabby pouch,
Like a child, he is happy with a new thing …And then Vasily Terkin
As if he remembered:
– Listen, brother,ashamed –
It wasn’t your fault.
Losing your head is a shame,
Just that, that’s what the war is for.Lose a pouch with shag,
If there is no one to sew, –
I don’t argue, it’s also bitter,
It’s hard, but you can live,
Survive a trouble-hole,
Keep tobacco in your fist,
But Russia, mother-old woman,
We cannot lose.Our grandfathers, our children,
Our grandchildren do not order.
How many years have we lived in the world?
A thousand?.. More! That’s it, brother!How long to live in the world –
A year, or two, or drag years –
You and I are responsible for everything.
That’s it, gate! And you are a pouch…DUEL
The German was strong and dexterous,
Well-cut, well-tailored,
He stood like on horseshoes,
Don’t scare – he won’t run.Well-fed, shaved, cared for,
Fed with gratuitous goods,
At war, in a foreign land
Slept warm.He hit without frightening
Beat to knock down for sure.
And it was like a big bone
A hand in a Russian mitten…Didn’t play hide-and-seek with death –
He took it – fight and be silent –
Terkin knew that in this fight
He is weaker: not those grubs.There is a law of war is not new:
On the retreat – you eat plenty,
On the defensive – is it so,
On the offensive – on an empty stomach.The German hit so that the jaw
As if moved to the right.
And then the fighter, not aiming,
He cracked the German between the eyes.And still didn’t spit on the snow
The first blood of evil salt,
The German put it into the sled again
With the same force, in the same pain.So they came together, grappled close,
What are clips, disks,
Automatic machines – to hell, away!
If only a knife could help.Two are fighting in the clubs of steam,
It’s not about anything else, –
Gets Terkin from a blow
At least save your teeth.But as long as Terkin sled
As much as he could
In battle, the coast,
The German moved, like a barbell,
Yes, not into the sled,
And under a sigh.Terkin gasped: bad business,
Bad, thinks the fighter.
It’s good that he’s light in body –
flew off. And then it would be the end …He resisted – and he himself was frightened
Terkin gave the German a bream,
So his own hand
Almost took it out of his shoulder.To hell with her! I’m glad that I didn’t miss,
Although the teeth are not full,
But even the German with his left eye
Does not conduct observations.A fight is a fight, not a toy!
Though the face burns with fire,
But even the German with a red skirt
Is decorated like an egg.Here he is – half an inch – the enemy.
Nose to nose. tightness.
How nasty he is –
The spirit of a German from his mouth.Angrily Terkin spat blood,
What a smell! Falls off your feet.
Oh, you bastard, for health,
Not otherwise, you eat garlic!Where were you in a hurry – to the hostess?
Uterus, mammal? Uterus, testicles?
Did you decide to honor us?
Come on! And who are you,Who are you, what to our grandmother
Showed up on the threshold,
Without asking, without taking off your hat
And do not dry your boots?Can you cope with the old woman?
Come on! No, who are you,
What do we owe you in Russia
We serve food and drink?Isn’t a poor cripple,
Or a kind person –
Lost
On the way,
Asked
For the night?People are happy with kind people.
No, you are strong on your own,
You put things in order
.
You come –
Your law.Who are you? I have no sense,
Whose son and father are you.
A man by all signs, –
Are you a man? No. Scoundrel!Two people trample in a circle,
Like a couple in a circle,Raseef22 (Lebanon): why are the noses of Egyptian statues usually broken and disfigured?
InoSMI
Why do statues have broken noses? — this question is most often asked by museum visitors interested in Egyptian civilization. Indeed, the noses of almost all Egyptian sculptures are broken, no matter who they depict. And this is not an accident. In ancient Egypt, some received special training to disfigure statues. For what purpose, says Raseef22 (Lebanon) .
© © CC BY-SA 2.0, Anne Petersen
“Why do statues have broken noses?” is the question most often asked by visitors interested in Egyptian civilization to Brooklyn Museum curator Edward Bleiberg.
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From ancient tombs to the great pyramids, Egyptian civilization is famous for its exquisite and precise sculptures. Despite the fact that the statues depict people from different backgrounds, they have something in common – broken and disfigured noses.
An accident caused by natural phenomena, or deliberate damage?
Natural erosion or purposeful act?
Strike Force: Iconoclasm in Ancient Egypt is the first event of its kind to explore the political and religious aspects of the struggle against ancient Egyptian statues.
Focusing on the legacies of some pharaohs such as Hatshepsut and Akhenaten and the campaigns to destroy and deface statues in late antiquity, the exhibition presents a number of damaged statues along with intact pieces. Its purpose is to demonstrate the deliberate destruction of objects that were perceived not as a means of depicting a specific object, but as a vessel for spiritual energy. That is why the exhibition raises a number of questions in the minds of visitors regarding property, memory and visual culture.
Are these distortions part of the concept and design? And why just noses?
In the past, some archaeologists believed that natural erosion played a major role in the disfigurement of ancient Egyptian sculptures and statues due to strong winds, water currents, soil changes and other factors that could cause significant damage to body parts such as hands, feet and nose. However, according to Edward Bleiberg, there were political, religious personal and criminal motives. The acts of vandalism were deliberate and had a specific purpose. It seemed that the broken noses of three-dimensional statues were an understandable phenomenon, but, to the surprise of the researcher, he found the same defect in flat exhibits.
In fact, the ancient Egyptians believed that statues were the seat of power. According to their ideas, the spirit of God could live in his image. As for people, it was believed that part of the soul of a deceased person could be in his sculpture.
Bleiberg concluded that the acts of vandalism were aimed at neutralizing the power of the depicted person. The same opinion is shared by Adela Oppenheim, curator of Egyptian art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art: “If we want to suppress the forces that are hostile to us, the best way to do this is to break the nose of the statue.”
Although the ancient Egyptians did not believe that the statues were able to stand up and move, because they are made of stone, and debated whether they breathed air through the nose, it was believed that it was the nose that was the source of their strength. As a result, if the opponents wanted to eliminate this force, they destroyed the nose of the statue so that it would stop “breathing” and living.
Deprivation of power
Cemeteries and temples served as repositories for most of the statues and reliefs made specifically for religious rituals. It was customary to perform a number of religious ceremonies using the statues, including the “opening of the mouth” ritual, which was anointed with oil to bring the statue to life and endow it with the necessary power.
According to Bleiberg, all religious rituals were linked to an economy based on sacrifices to supernatural beings. The kings made sacrifices to the gods, hoping that they would take care of Egypt, so the statues and drawings were “a meeting place for supernatural forces and the real world.” During rituals, they became inhabited, or completed, and the destruction of statues or ignoring religious beliefs are factors that could damage the power: “A damaged part of the body can no longer perform its function. Without a nose, the spirit of the statue cannot live, which means that in this way a vandal can kill it. And with broken ears, she is unable to hear prayers.”
In the era of the pharaohs, people were very afraid of Egyptian sculptures and statues: even thieves who were looking for valuable items feared the revenge of the deceased if his statue was not disfigured.
As for the practice of destroying and desecrating human images, it goes back to the beginning of Egyptian history. For example, deliberate damage to mummies in the prehistoric era is associated with the primitive belief that damage to an image harms the person it represents. That is why the pharaohs issued decrees imposing severe punishments on anyone who dared to damage the statues depicting them.
Warriors preparing for battle were instructed to make a wax doll of the enemy and then destroy it.
Political and cultural motives
The ancient Egyptians tried to take special measures to protect sculptures by placing them in pits inside graves or temples. However, these methods did not help either, especially since the people who were engaged in the destruction of the statues were not just vandals. They were specially trained for this purpose. In the era of the pharaohs, the name of the depicted person was usually engraved on the statue, which means that the person who disfigured the statue could read.
According to Edward Bleiberg, the large-scale destruction of the statues was in fact politically motivated. This is primarily due to the fact that the destruction of monuments helped novice rulers to rewrite history in their favor. The most striking example is the destruction of the heritage of queens Hatshepsut and Nefertiti, as a result of which the symbols of visual culture associated with them disappeared.
Along with the political factor, the cultural aspect played a huge role in changing the perception of statues over time.
In the early Christian period in Egypt (between the 1st and 2nd centuries AD), the gods who supposedly reside in statues were feared, they were considered devilish spirits.