Having experienced everything, we know ourselves,
What on days of psychic attacks
Hearts not occupied by us
Without delay, our enemy will take over.
(Vasily Fedorov).
The mouth of a person is endowed with Holy Scripture special power. Poison drips from the tongue of an evil person, but sweet water flows from the mouth of a good person. “The mouth of the righteous knows what is good, but the mouth of the wicked knows what is evil” (Prov. 10:32). And again: “the mouth of the righteous feeds many,” they “speak wisdom.”
Beautiful smart speech, - as a source of spring water from which any passerby can quench their spiritual thirst.
You fall to such a spring of living folk speech when you open Nadezhda Demidova’s new book “About St. Nicholas, His Many-Wonderful Icon and the Velikoretskoye Village.”
You can’t help but listen to the bright phrases and apt words of the main character - grandfather Filaret, on whose behalf the story is told! Grandfather Filaret, walking with his grandson on a pilgrimage, is, although a collective image, but... The author of these lines remembers such handsome old men in the procession to the Velikaya River - living guardians of the “legends of deep antiquity”. Here, for example, one of them is a hunched pilgrim from the village of Chudinova with staffs in both hands, in his youth he was the spiritual child of Archimandrite Tavrion (Batozsky), and in his old age he was a resident of the Velikoretsk Monastery, Monk Moses. It happened that you would join him on the way... You would step in time with the tapping of his staff and listen to his leisurely story. Well, just like the boy Pavlusha from Demidova’s book!
Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. And grandfather Filaret brings out from his life the greatest treasure for his grandson - the legend about the life and miracles of St. Nicholas, captured in the Velikoretsk Icon. And the glory of this icon is so great that even on Moscow’s Red Square there was a place of honor for it - one of the chapels in St. Basil’s Cathedral was consecrated.
Thus, the oral story of grandfather Filaret takes on completely material outlines for the reader - in architectural monuments, in every mark of the Velikoretsk icon, in animated pictures of the recent past. Well, for example, like retired soldiers with inkwells on their belts standing in front of the church in the village of Velikoretskoye, waiting for illiterate pilgrims who want to submit a note with their names to the altar. This is a real fact, gleaned by the author of the book from local history sources. Such details make the narrative tangible and fill the book with the fragrance of holy antiquity.
The hero of Nadezhda Demidova talks to his grandson about Christian faith in simple, understandable words. And this is the professional credo of the author of the book. She is not a fiction writer or an ancient reenactor, but a missionary of the Church of St. mchch. Faith, Hope, Love and their mother Sofia of the Vyatka diocese.
While you and I, dear reader, are patiently waiting for the subject “Fundamentals of Orthodox Culture” to arrive in public schools, Nadezhda Demidova and several colleagues are fighting local battles for the hearts of our children. Her speech is most often addressed to the most difficult audience - ordinary schoolchildren who know Ksyusha Sobchak well and do not know Viktor Vasnetsov. And therefore, the ability to clearly, imaginatively, and sometimes in an entertaining way explain complex topics to both old and young is an extremely important issue for her.
In Vyatka, Nadezhda Demidova is known as a tireless popularizer of Orthodox culture. She is known not only as the author of the book “Stories about the Vyatka Saints”, but also as a guide to pilgrimage trips; and an experienced teacher, after whose speeches at school-wide meetings, parents unanimously choose “Fundamentals of Orthodox Culture.”
It is not without reason that during the current Christmas readings, Nadezhda Demidova was invited to speak at the MC church. Tatiana under Moscow state university on the topic: “How to talk to children about God simply.” The meeting took place in the same church on Manezhnaya, on the pediment of which is inscribed: “The Light of Christ enlightens everyone.” Nadezhda Vasilievna shared her experience of working with parishioners, parents of large families and teachers in Moscow. After this, the rector of the temple, Professor MDA Rev. Maxim Kozlov sent a letter to the Vyatka diocese in which he assessed this form of cooperation between parishes as “effective and in demand.”
This lengthy digression from the topic is necessary for the reader to see N.V. Demidova’s new book as one of the fruits of her very extensive missionary work. The material collected in the book will be of help to teachers of the military-industrial complex course and for lessons in spiritual and moral culture.
It can also be an educational read with your family. I remember here my wife’s elderly grandmother, who, in her eighties, first picked up the Gospel set out for children. And day after day she read it, absorbing that pure verbal milk that she was deprived of in childhood.
It is important to note that the book “About St. Nicholas, His Many-Wonderful Icon and the Velikoretskoe Village” received the stamp “Recommended for publication” Publishing Council Russian Orthodox Church".
It was published by a publishing house with the significant name “Alavaster”. In ancient times, alabaster was the name given to a copper vessel for storing the holy myrrh. It was from an alabaster vessel, according to the Gospel, that the woman poured precious oil on the head of the Savior (Mark 14:3). The books of this publishing house can also be called such a spiritual offering to Christ. Here the works of Natalia Sukhinina were released, filling our hearts with the subtle but clearly perceptible breath of God's presence in the destinies of her non-fictional heroes.
I am filled with the same heartfelt trepidation and love for the reader. new book Nadezhda Demidova. In the hands of Alavastra employees, it received an original stylized design that will attract the interest of children and will not leave adults indifferent.
It remains to add that the publication of this book coincided with the anniversary of Nadezhda Vasilyevna Demidova (remember that “anniversary” in Latin means 50). In this regard, one cannot help but say that Nadezhda bears her name for a reason. This Christian virtue is directed towards the future, and our future is children and youth. After all, the main blow of funds is aimed at them today mass media with the goal of “reformatting” the consciousness and soul of our people, depriving Russia of its future.
Therefore, in order to live with hope for the future, we need to fight with all our might for the hearts of our children. For, as Janos Korczak said: “The hearts of children are unoccupied trenches. If we don’t occupy them, our enemy will.”
He will occupy himself, settling all the same scores,
He will occupy, he will sit down,
They broke us...
Hearts! Yes, these are heights,
Which cannot be given away.
Oleg Chetverikov, Vyatka, especially for the “Russian People's Line”
Memory! A burning, heightened memory of the terrible days of the war. The memory of the bitterness of loss and insult to the Russian land, on which the boot of the German fascist trampled. The Holy Land, which is soaked in the blood of soldiers, the tears of mothers, wives and innocent children. In the whirlwind of time and the bustle of life, sometimes it seems that memory is somehow moving away from us and only on Victory Day will it burn the soul with a splash Eternal Flame, may it be highlighted in the military awards of front-line soldiers. Or it will sparkle with the pain of loss and the glory of triumph in the stingy tears of a soldier who managed to survive that distant, long and terrible war.
The war against fascism is the most ordeal for our Motherland, for the true Orthodox faith. After all, we know that every German soldier had the words “God with us” engraved on his belt plaque, just as we also know what these animals did in human form. But Russia survived, managed to defeat the fierce enemy, because it fought for truth, for justice, for the Orthodox faith. After all, from ancient times it was customary in Rus' that the defense of the Motherland was identified with the defense of faith...
“Believe that everything was not in vain: our songs, our fairy tales, our incredible victories, our suffering - do not give all this for a sniff of tobacco... We knew how to live. Remember this. Be human." The great and lofty words spoken by the son of the Russian land Vasily Shukshin in 1974 are striking in their directness, truthfulness and foreboding of a new misfortune approaching Russia.
Having received a crushing rebuff from our grandfathers and fathers in the 40s and realizing that “you can’t trample your soul with boots,” the enemy did not abandon his goals. He changed the methods of achieving them and moved from direct military aggression to information warfare. We all must now clearly understand that an undeclared information aggression has been going on against Russia for a long time and purposefully. Every year we lose thousands and thousands of young lives, disfigured by the poison of consumerism and shameless waste of life. And the main weapons here: lies and slander, tobacco, alcohol and drugs, psychotropic drugs and the latest achievements of genetic engineering. And these bullets are more dangerous than lead bullets; they affect not only the body, but also the soul.
Unfortunately, Russia has already lost a number of the most important battles in this information war, and has given up many positions even without a fight.
“Having experienced everything, we know ourselves that in the days of psychic attacks
Hearts not occupied by us will immediately be occupied by our enemy.
He'll be busy settling the same scores. They'll sit down, and they'll kill us.
Hearts, these are heights that cannot be given away.”
Life confirms the rightness of the poet Vasily Fedorov. The enemy - insidious, calculating and merciless - is occupying ever new heights. Having dismembered a great power, tightened the credit and financial noose around Russia's neck, undermined the economy and military power, he began the spiritual and physical destruction of the Russian people. Sometimes it seems that evil has come out of hiding and shamelessly declares its victory over good.
First of all, the enemy is trying to erase from Russian souls the spirit of victory and the feeling of pride in Russia, for its great people. And with those who are deprived of their historical memory, you can do whatever you want.
They say that every spring the souls of dead soldiers return to their native places, where they went to war... It’s even scary to think that in a few decades, only Russian birch trees may sing to the victorious Russian soldiers. May the memory of May flowers quietly fall on the graves of those who fell for their Motherland...
The matter is up to us - up to those living today. Time demands action. Our generation has a historic chance to revive national identity and dignity. To revive Russia, which we will not be ashamed to pass on to our children. This will be our contribution to the history of the Russian land, to the Victory, which was brought by the bright May of the 45th Russian soldier, whose perseverance and sacrifice saved the world from fascist slavery.
I walked through my beloved Krasnoznamensk, which became even more beautiful in the riot of May greenery, and saw a group of boys in the uniform of soldiers of the 40s. Holding formation, they marched somewhere. Looking at the guys, I thought with joy that my 12-year-old son Andrei, who himself suddenly began going to the military-patriotic city club, participated with these guys in the Battle of Borodino and the celebration of Victory Day. And according to established tradition, I celebrated the Victory Day in my native Bryansk region. I visited the front-line soldier Nikolai Yegorovich Savin, who had become my dear family. I visited Partizan Square and paid tribute to the victims with flowers and a minute of silence. So it turns out that the memory lives in our hearts, will live on, and all this depends only on us.
Nikita Mikhalkov decided to shoot a sequel to the film “Burnt by the Sun.” He was prompted to do this by Hollywood films, which very beautifully, vividly and convincingly show that supposedly only thanks to America and its heroic soldiers, victory over German fascism was achieved. The director wants to show the strength and greatness of the Russian soul, to remind us of little-known pages of our history and victory in the Great Patriotic War.
We will learn how, slandered and repressed, deprived of his rank and all awards, Divisional Commander Kotov, in a difficult time for Russia, managed to forgive and forget humiliations and insults. And all in order to leave the camp and stand up for the defense of their land, their people. Now we know that there were many people like Kotov. We remember General Serpilin from the movie “The Living and the Dead”, we remember the officers and ordinary soldiers who, as part of penal companies, went to the German machine guns. And all for the sake of one right - the right to die for the Motherland.
“You can’t understand Russia with your mind, you can’t measure it with a common yardstick...” wrote the poet, my Bryansk fellow countryman Fyodor Tyutchev. Indeed, we Russians are accustomed to living with our hearts, not our minds. We know how to love and forgive, endure, believe and hope. We know how to feel not only the pain of others, but also the pain native land. Therefore, Russia has both wounds and scars on its heart. But there is a place for joy and memory. Again and again, she, like the political instructor in the world-famous photograph, raises us into battle for the Motherland, for the truth, for the future of the children and the country. It reminds us of the past and teaches us to live in such a way that neither we nor our children know the terrible days of war anymore. Memory rings like a veche bell in our hearts and will ring as long as the Russian soul lives.
Ivan Terekhov.
Krasnoznamensk.
“Believe that everything was not in vain: our songs, our fairy tales, our victories of incredible weight, our suffering - do not give it all for a sniff of tobacco...”
It’s even scary to think that in a few decades, perhaps, only Russian birches will sing to the victorious Russian soldiers. May the memory of May flowers quietly fall on the graves of those who fell for their Motherland...
Having experienced everything, we know ourselves,
What on days of psychic attacks
Hearts not occupied by us
Without delay, our enemy will take over.
He'll occupy himself, sit down and kill us...
Hearts!!! Yes, these are heights,
Which cannot be given away!!!
V. Fedorov, poet
Schools! Schools! They are different. Spacious and cramped, bright and not very bright, small and large, built according to the latest architecture, and wooden, living out their days to the sound of children's polyphony.
But whatever the building, it is a repository of destinies, hopes, the cradle of human characters. And if the school is a repository, then the teacher is the keeper of small growing people and big people.
The position of the teacher determines how the children entrusted to him will grow up, because a thousand-ton avalanche in the mountains is created by a pebble, and a tiny push sets in motion enormous forces. Impulse is important in everything, and above all in teaching and raising children.
Every year thousands of inquisitive eyes come to schools and every year today's and yesterday's schoolchildren leave for the big life. Everyone has their own unique destiny. But there is no such destiny, such a biography that the teacher would not influence, would not prepare the ground for future harvests, would not put into it the seeds of the reasonable, the good, the eternal, expecting fertile shoots.
Brush and pencil, chisel and pen, word and thought shape and create people. People with a capital “P” for future generations – Great people.
And today the fight for the minds and hearts of children is more important than ever. And the school must make its significant contribution to this fight. At school, the children understand the question - which current should the ship sail with - just not against the flow of history.
A teacher should not put up with the abuse and spitting of our values and traditions, our Soviet history, with the glorification of criminal capitalism to the skies.
How can a teacher put up with the fact that in our troubled times everything has been turned upside down: betrayal has become valor, cowardice has become heroism, lies and slander have become dignity?!
In lessons there should be the truth and only the truth about Soviet history, about the leaders, revolutionaries, Bolsheviks, communists, about the Great October Socialist Revolution, which liberated millions of people from centuries-old oppression and slavery, about the Soviet working people, who have done so much for future generations, who
I didn’t know that Belovezhye would happen,
That he will be crucified as a blasphemer,
That he will be given to the ignorant
Not just one, but everyone.
During lessons, students need to be told about traitors, scoundrels and scoundrels who, grain by grain, grain of sand, pebble and brick, destroyed the country of Lenin, Stalin, Gagarin, the country of the Soviet people.
With these words, you need to step onto a clear strip of white sunlight and take a step along the sunbeam, which will lead life in the beautiful Land of the Soviets to its former expanse.
Grape seed
I'll bury it in warm ground.
And I’ll kiss the vine,
And I will pick the ripe grapes.
I'll gather all the guys
I'll tell you about the Soviet Union,
Otherwise why on earth
Do I live this forever?! For what?
These words must be in tune with the constant thoughts of the Teacher, with his very life. And it largely depends on teachers so that schoolchildren do not spend their best years in an atmosphere of hypocrisy, lies, slander, hypocrisy, so that they do not grow up ready to endure poverty and exploitation all their lives, so that they do not become a group of hustlers who in a short time will be able to attack us look down on thanks to the specie and rustling bills in your pockets, so that the school graduates children prepared to work for the good of the people and the Fatherland, and so that, remembering their school years, their youth, your students can proudly say:
My selfless youth!
You were tall and beautiful.
Before you and on tiptoe I
Can't reach it!
I wish you, dear colleagues, good health and congratulate you on the beginning of the academic year. I believe in the power of the example of those Teachers whom the Soviet people called the People's Teacher. You are loved, you are valued, you are trusted by your dear children to guide them on the right path.
Justify the trust of Russian citizens! With your honest teacher's word, help the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the dumb to speak, the illiterate to understand and feel the essence of the policy of the anti-Soviet, anti-communist regime.
Dear People's Teachers, guardians of millions of young hearts, millions of colorful eyes, everything young and honest that exists in Russia! I am sure that you will raise such young men and women who, with every beat of their heart, every day they live, and their whole lives, will be worthy heirs of the heroic generations of fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers who overthrew the class of oppressors and exploiters and built the world’s first and only socialist state of workers and peasants
Your senior comrade,
veteran teacher A. Neboga
"AT THE MAIN ESSENCE..."
Features of Vasily Fedorov's lyrics
Love is like shine to me
stars above the world of evil.
V.D. Fedorov
On February 23, 2018, the country's literary community, lovers and admirers of Russian poetry celebrate the 100th anniversary of the outstanding poet Vasily Dmitrievich Fedorov.
Having experienced everything,
We know ourselves
What on days of psychic attacks
Hearts not occupied by us
Without hesitation, our enemy will occupy
He will borrow, settling the same scores,
He will occupy, he will sit down,
They broke us...
Hearts!
Yes, these are heights,
Which cannot be given away.
* * *
“The time of our youth has become a thing of the past and has become history,” - with these words the permanent Komsomol organizer of our class, Nina Kostrikina, began the next meeting of classmates, taking out from her purse a notebook with a brown cover that was so familiar to me. Did you really save it? Almost half a century has passed when, in the ninth grade, we decided to start a notebook in which the best poems about love would be written. Later, we wrote down various smart thoughts and simply liked expressions there, for which the notebook received the name “Quotation Book”. Every time we wrote essays, we turned to it and always found the right quote.
Without opening the notebook, Nina read Fedorov’s poem “In essence, life is simple...”. And for the umpteenth time! These simple lines struck me with their depth, sincerity and tenderness. In the second half of the 20th century, the name of Vasily Fedorov became known and popular, and this happened because in his poems he wrote about the most important thing: about life and death, about good and evil, about love for the Motherland and love for a woman. There were many poems by Fedorov in our notebook. After all, we all experienced the time of first love and first infatuation, and poetic lines awakened, warmed up, and excited our feelings. We read the “Book of Love” with special attention and began to think about the fact that musicians and poets, artists and writers from year to year, from century to century, turn to the eternal theme of love, because this feeling connects all life on Earth and helps in difficult moments, warms the soul. Romantic and tender, timid and passionate, devoted and unrequited... How different love can be... It can give joy and cause pain. It also fills our lives with meaning. Without her, even the most prosperous and successful person. Love is where a person begins. Love is what is the essence of life:
On the main point
Life is simple:
Her lips...
His lips...
She's simple
In good faith,
Let only breasts
Clings to your chest.
How surprisingly accurately and surprisingly simply said! There is no need for unnecessary words and movements: “His lips, her lips, and his chest will cling to his chest...”. It is the lips, this outdated word, that reveals the great mystery of the kiss, which explains everything without words. And what a wonderful word - “cling”! Not a single synonym - to get closer, to join - can explain the main thing that is contained in the meaning of this word: warmth and love, endless trust and a great desire to merge, to become a single being. You read and re-read these lines and think about how easy and happy it would be for all of us to live if we all learned this simple wisdom and the meaning of life:
The whole point of it
And wise and simple,
Like a stalk
Spring growth.
What about the blood of soldiers?
What about the soldier’s pain?
And strontium
In the bush of clouds?
It's all mistakes
All overlays
And misconceptions
Centuries.
And the essence of life
It's simple:
Her lips
His lips...
Love is the most poetically sublime, pure and beautiful feeling. It is unique and eternal, like life. The theme of love is inexhaustible in literature and art, because this feeling itself is imperishable, always new and unique for each person. True love always selfless and selfless. “To love,” wrote Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy, “means to live the life of the one you love.” And Aristotle said this about this: “To love means to wish for another what you consider to be good, and not for your own sake, but for the sake of the one you love, and try, if possible, to deliver this good.” For a lover, the most important thing is the happiness of the beloved being. All this is confirmed in Fedorov’s poems. This is exactly what his wonderful poem “Seventh Heaven” is about.
...Years have passed. We have long since become adults, raised children, and are helping raise grandchildren. And once again, experiencing this exciting feeling of love with our children, we again and again turn to Fedorov’s poems. Very soon the entire literary community and all lovers of Russian poetry will celebrate the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Vasily Dmitrievich Fedorov. New collections are being published for the anniversary best works poet. Undoubtedly, they will replenish the city and rural libraries, will take their rightful place among the favorite books in the home collections of fans of his work.
Vasily Fedorov is a poet in whose lyrics the theme of love is one of the main and cross-cutting themes. In love, he saw both “a trap of human sinful character and a gift from heaven.” Fedorov glorifies the woman, idolizes her. He also mentions the well-known Eve, the first woman, calling her “the first one expelled from paradise.” In the lines “Oh, woman, the beauty of the earth,” he compares her with the beauty of the earth, with nature, in which everything is created for love:
"Earth" is a good word,
But it's for love.
"Spring" is a warm word,
But it's for love.
"Star" is a wonderful word...
And it's for love.
All for love:
And the earth
And spring
And the stars.
All year
The universe worked
I danced around all year,
For it to come
The Great Controversy
Our hearts.
Love warms, our heart opens, love opens the gates to our life. And if we have even a little love in our souls, then our life continues. Fedorov calls the star that continuously shines above our world love. He also notes that love calls for doing good: “Love to me is like a calling to do good deeds.” According to the poet, love always calls a person forward, pushes him to new discoveries. He compares the feeling of love with the right to food and drink: “Love is like a thirst for truth, like the right to eat and drink.” And in the final lines, Vasily Fedorov claims that he knows how to love and that he is the only one.
Love to me -
Like shining
Stars over the world of evil.
Love to me -
Like a calling
For good deeds.
May the world
Washed clean
The soul is alarmed.
Love to me -
Like a prophecy
Calling forward.
Love -
Like a thirst for truth,
Like the right to eat and drink.
I may be
The only one,
Knowing how to love.
This is one of the most wonderful poems about love, in our opinion, created by Vasily Fedorov. The poems are very musical, and therefore many composers turn to Fedorov’s lyrics and write beautiful romances on them. And there are several musical versions of this poem by the poet: both a romance and a lyrical song.
Vasily Fedorov's love lyrics occupy a significant place in his work. From his poems about love, one can unmistakably determine the poet’s value guidelines, his moral principles, understanding of the meaning of human life, the purpose of the poet and poetry. The poet's love lyrics are his moral code, giving an idea of what is dear to him in life, what feelings are sacred to him, what he hates in life.
Of course, reading and re-reading Fedorov’s poems, you discover new facets of his work, but one thing is certain - he managed to say his unique word about love and is absolutely right in asserting: “I erected a building for my love...”
VALENTINA PONOMARYOVA, teacher
Vasily FYODOROV (1918-1984)
* * *
I told myself
And I tell others
I tell everyone
With constant persistence:
Language of love
Can't be naked
The language of struggle
Shouldn't be vague.
***
What's the use
Forever
Have a little extra:
Afraid to live
And be afraid to die!
***
Great Pushkin
Once said:
There must be poetry
Stupid.
Reveal the meaning
Riddles to the end
And always learn to tell the difference
From stupid
Stupid.
***
Let your enemies scold you
Work hard without arguing.
They cut you down
On your own mountain.
***
Poetry
Attributed to the centuries,
To the immortality of words,
When I'm being punished
Like Buddha
I do not take revenge on my enemies -
They are over the years
They die themselves.
***
With love -
Even a thunderstorm!
And without love, poor fellows,
The sky is like our eyes,
Shrouded in darkness.
***
I value laughter
But still differentiate
The fun of stupidity
And wisdom is sad.
***
Until popular recognition
The paths are notoriously difficult.
The poet is obliged
Live in exile
At least
From his own wife.
***
I'll tell you everything
I won't shy away from anyone,
I won't back down
Not before anyone.
Unspoken,
Anger kills the soul -
Don't become
Suicides!
***
Famous controversy
Between schools and schools
I'll finish
In the consciousness of rightness.
Although our Muses
And they walked naked
Poetry does not tolerate nudity.
***
How do we write?
How do we fly?
Everyone is brave in different ways:
Sparrows fly in flocks,
Lonely ones are eagles.
***
Which countries and regions
Is my youth leaving?
If only I knew the way there,
I would go to return it.
***
Do you want to know
How was it written?
On the soul
For my life
Everything was boiling
Everything was packed together.
I'll break it off -
And I give it out.
***
To you girls
Going to the family,
I wish
From earthly blessings -
Children,
Not too naughty
Husbands,
Not very many drinkers.
***
They say,
My line
About love
Why is it so bitter
Children are worse than poison...
For children
Give me Marshak,
And me
No need.
***
Is in friendship
Good core,
A wonderful word - friend,
But friendship -
This is not a bureau
Friendly services.
***
Loves conscience?
It's not news to us
The kindness of people like that.
Scoundrels love conscience
When conscience
Others have.
***
I have your sympathies
I'm not listening
That my nose started bleeding.
Fight is the best
What is life
She was able to give it to me.
***
There are no differences
And there are years
There is an age -
The only difference is this.
Appearance
Earth is a planet,
And in the depths
She is a star.
***
My love
Long ago in years.
Like an apple tree on a hill
In heavy fruits
Needs
In support.
***
God of love,
I'm wounded in the heart again.
Protect from the deathbed,
Keep me on the bright side
Clean edge
Peace and goodness.
***
Dear friend,
I want to say
So that you know in advance:
We need to look for joy
And sadness
She will find it herself.
***
Take care of me
Until the last day
Take care of me
Until the last hour
Take care of me
Like gypsies a horse,
To whoop later
And rush off.
RUSSIAN POETS
They didn't choose their fate
Fate chose them itself
For the brilliance of talent and intelligence,
The moment they burned.
In their proud life without crooks
They are afraid of an incomprehensible whim.
Alas, neither our own nor the enemy's
Poets were not afraid of bullets.
They are the whole world
They could hug.
It's amazing about them
Like a miracle
Aboveground height amplitude:
From God
Up to the cheek of the earth.
They are in their destiny
Incomprehensible in scope,
In deep thought -
Patriarchs,
Hussars
Heart and soul.
They are in sight of death
There were destructive desires
Walk on the edge of day and night,
To see the sun
And a star.
How to embrace the immensity
Eclipse the feud
Your destiny?..
To you, distant ones,
Busy with myself
Russian poets
Don't understand.
Igor Kobzev
Life flowed on him
And at random:
There are problems at work, discord at home.
Criticized through and through
At twelve o'clock
He left the district committee.
The spring air was tipsy and fresh.
He drank it in sips like wine.
Without understanding the roads or between them,
Walked towards the river
Now in the field, now in the meadows.
The waves beat sleepily on the shore.
The wave will recede
It will make noise and fall silent...
And across the river the nightingales sing -
One will whistle
And the other one will click.
I wish I could forget about the district committee and my wife,
And “stricter” than his own,
But why,
Than the nightingale's song is more tender,
Does that make your soul feel more and more bitter?
And the nightingales are bolder:
Like, we sing.
To awaken joy,
Adjust your thoughts.
We nightingales persistently call
Not for the rest of the soul,
And to a better life.
We don't entertain -
We help you live
Suffer, love
Stronger and fuller.
Your whole life
Must be beautiful
Like our songs.
* * *
In timid hope,
Like a young man
Giving myself
Love and stuff.
I returned to the work table
With a completely exhausted soul.
Will you be for me again?
My old table
Pegasus spindle?
So they return fearfully
To his long-abandoned wife.
And it would be
Get into the mood
Much easier
If I were a sinner...
The tabletop smiles at me
A smile, alas, empty.
S.I.Shurtakov
To a stranger
In the world of the past,
I'm as old as an hour.
I'm a man without a past
I carry everything with me.
I, stupefied by the burden,
Both in action and in sleep
All in the present tense
And in no other way.
You still remember
And me and the Soul are through
You don't even need memory
Because everything is with me.
To me with old thoughts
And at the time of gray hair
Don't run around with memoirs
To the publishing houses of the country.
Time for me
What a time
Even though it has come out of centuries...
Like this,
My dear Senechka,
Friend Shurtakov!
* * *
Not a table, but chaos
With the muse in bondage...
- Don't touch it! - I shout. —
Okay is of little use,
I like this chaos
Needed on the table
To create worlds
Like God!
* * *
My friend
Drunk, he grieves:
Speaks,
What a man
It got worse.
Speaks,
What's against the old life?
The one who has not yet been thrown into a run,
The man became
Incomparably more sinful
Became more vicious
New man.
Wincing,
He concludes wearily:
- Fear of God
There was nothing in my soul.
Fear him?!
May he perish in dust!
Among the people
Not knowing the shackles
Righteousness,
Inspired by fear
A hundred times
More shameful than sins.
So easy
Reach separation:
God is one
The other is Comrade Lenin.
But I remember
Good luck
In service, in friendship
And in other matters,
To the car
To the rich dacha
He didn't need it
God's fear.
Apparently he wants
So that God's fears
Fulfilled the role
Chain dog.
