Вы можете получить дополнительную информацию для профиля Алексея Черешнева, такую как фотографии, список друзей, список подписок на группы и сообщества, которая будет загружена из различных социальных сетей. Если указанная информация представляет для вас интерес, нажмите кнопку "Обновить профиль".
Обновить профиль| Музыка: | Музыка Алана Сильвестри (Мстители, Первый Мститель, Назад в будующее), музыка Джереми Соула (Skyrim), The Beatles, классическая музыка, музыка |
| Фильмы: | Мстители, Назад в будущее 1, 2, 3 Последний мститель |
| ТВ передачи: | |
| Игры: | Теннис, волейбол, шахматы |
| Книги: | Все книги Лукъяненко Роберт Сальваторе начиная с книги "Тёмный эльф" и ещё книг 15 до последней имеющейся, Сапковский(всё) |
| Интересы: | Музыка, литература, физика, биохимия ! Сеттинг Warhammer 40 000 и всё, что с ним связано. Сеттинг Мстителей и героев Марвел |
| О себе: | Рост 189 см |
| Деятельность: | |
| Владение языками: | Русский, Беларуская, English |
| Политические взгляды: | монархические |
| Религия и мировоззрение: | Orthodoxy |
| Отношение к алкоголю: | компромиссное |
| Отношение к курению: | резко негативное |
| Главное в людях: | доброта и честность |
| Главное в жизни: | наука и исследования |
| Любимые цитаты: | Knowledge is power, guard it well! ********************************************** Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To seek our pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells, In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gleaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught, To hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, on twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To claim our long-forgotten gold. Goblets they carved there for themselves, And harps of gold, where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves. The pines were roaring on the heights, The wind was moaning in the night, The fire was red, it flaming spread, The trees like torches blazed with light. The bells were ringing in the dale, And men looked up with faces pale. The dragon’s ire, more fierce than fire, Laid low their towers and houses frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon. The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled the hall to dying fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the Misty Mountains grim, To dungeons deep and caverns dim, We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him! The wind was on the withered heath, But in the forest stirred no leaf: There shadows lay be night or day, And dark things silent crept beneath. The wind came down from mountains cold, And like a tide it roared and rolled. The branches groaned, the forest moaned, And leaves were laid upon the mould. The wind went on from West to East; All movement in the forest ceased. But shrill and harsh across the marsh, Its whistling voices were released. The grasses hissed, their tassels bent, The reeds were rattling—on it went. O’er shaken pool under heavens cool, Where racing clouds were torn and rent. It passed the Lonely Mountain bare, And swept above the dragon’s lair: There black and dark lay boulders stark, And flying smoke was in the air. It left the world and took its flight Over the wide seas of the night. The moon set sale upon the gale, And stars were fanned to leaping light. Under the Mountain dark and tall, The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall! The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong. The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. On silver necklaces they strung The light of stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, from twisted wire The melody of harps they wrung. The mountain throne once more is freed! O! Wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste! The king of freind and kin has need. Now call we over the mountains cold, ‘Come back unto the caverns old!’ Here at the gates the king awaits, His hands are rich with gems and gold. The king has come unto his hall Under the Mountain dark and tall. The Worm of Dread is slain and dead, And ever so our foes shall fall! Farewell we call to hearth and hall! Though wind may blow and rain may fall, We must away, ere break of day Far |
| Источники вдохновения: | Музыка, художественная и литература вообще |
| Школа искусств № 7
выпуск 2010г.
|
Беларусь, Минск |
| Гимназия №12
начало обучения с 1999г.
|
Беларусь, Минск |
|
БГУ, дата окончания: не указана Факультет: Биологический факультет
Кафедра: Биохимии
Статус: Студент (специалист), Очное отделение
|
Беларусь, Минск |
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| ВКонтакте | id48672698 |
| Одноклассники | нет данных |
| @ Мой Мир | нет данных |
| YouTube | нет данных |
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