In a dream, you cried bitterly. Evgeny Yevtushenko - "Long Creek"

18.06.2020

There was one of the summer warm days ...

We were standing and talked to the comrade near our home. You looked around near us, among the colors and herbs, which were on your shoulders, and from your face did not come up with an indefinite half-chamber, which I tried to unravel. Around the bushes, sometimes came to us Spaniel Chif. But for some reason you were afraid of Chif, hugged me for my knee, looked back my head, looked into my face in the face, reflecting the sky with my eyes and uttered joyfully, gently, as if returned from afar: "Dad!" And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands. Random your arms touched, probably, and my comrade, because he shouted suddenly, shershed fluffy your hair and thoughtfully contemplated you long ...

A friend shot himself late in the fall, when the first snow fell ... How, when did this terrible relictime thought entered him? For a long time, probably ... After all, he said it to me more than once, what attacks of longing is experiencing early in spring or late in autumn. And he had terrible nights, when it washed that someone climbs into his house to him, someone walks around. "For God's sake, give me cartridges," he asked me. And I squeezed him six rounds: "This is enough to shoot." And what an employee he was - always vigorous, active. And I said: "What are you blooming! Take an example with me. I bathe in clear to deep autumn! What are you all lying or sitting! Get up, come with gymnastics. " The last time I saw him in mid-October. We talked about Buddhism for some reason, that it is time to take the big novels that only in daily work and there is the only joy. And when they said goodbye, he suddenly cried: "When I was like Alyosha, the sky seemed to me so much, so blue. Why did it be overgrown? .. And the more I live here, the stronger pulls me here, in Abramtsevo. After all, this is sin - so indulge in one place? " And three weeks later in Gagra - as if thunder from the sky I ran ache! And the sea disappeared for me, the night people disappeared ... when's all this happened? In the evening? At night? I know that he got in the cottage in the evening. What did he do? First of all, he moved and habit in the cabinet his city costume. Then brought firewood for the stove. Eating apples. Then he suddenly thought to drown the oven and lean. Here then, most likely, and it came! What did he remember about the farewell? Did you cry? Then he washed away and put on her pure it ... The gun hung on the wall. He removed him, feeling cold gravity, the disability of steel trunks. In one of the trunks, the cartridge was easily entered. My cartridge. I sat on a chair, removed the shoe from my feet, put in the mouth of the trunks ... No, not weakness - the great life strength and hardness is needed in order to break your life as he broke off!

But why, why? - I am looking for me and I do not find a response. Is it really an unknown print on each of us, determining the whole course of our longeous life? .. My soul wanders in dotters ...

And then we were still alive, and there was one of the summer days of which we remember through the years and who seem to us endless. Running with me and taking your hair once again, my friend went to my house. And we took a big apple and went hiking. Oh, what long path we had to - almost a kilometer! - And how many diverse life awaited us on this path: I ripped off my waters a little river clearly; on branches jumped squirrel; Chief Lyal, finding hedgehog, and we looked at the hedgehog, and you wanted to touch His hand, but the hedgehog fucked, and you, having lost the balance, sat down on Moss; Then we went to the rotunda, and you said: "What Ba-Ashnya!"; At the river, you lean the root on the root and began to look into the water: "Okkki", "you told me a minute; On the shoulder to you, Komar sat down: "Komik Kusil ..." - you said, fascinated. I remembered an apple, took it out of my pocket, to the brilliance wiped about the grass and gave you. You took both hands and immediately bit off, and the trace of the bite was similar to the Belich (no, blessed, was beautiful our world.

The time has come day sleepand we went home. While I undressed you and tightened a pajama, you managed to remember everything that I saw on this day. At the end of the conversation, you drank twice. In my opinion, you managed to fall asleep before I left the room. I sat down at the window and thought about: Do you remember when this endless day and our journey? Did everyone ever survived with you, somewhere irrevocably kanet? And heard you cried. I went to you, thinking that you woke up and you need something. But you slept, picking my knees. Your tears flowed so richly that the pillow quickly wet. You sobbed with bitter, with desperate hopelessness. As if mourned something, forever gone. What have you managed to know in life to cry so bitter in a dream? Or are we already in infancy grieves the soul, afraid of the upcoming suffering? "Son, wake up, cute," I told you by my hand. You woke up, quickly sat down and handed my hands to me. Gradually, you began to calm down. Wash you and putting at the table, I suddenly realized that something happened to you - you looked at me seriously, and silently. And I felt you left from me. Your soul, merging so far with mine, is now far and every year will be farther. She looked at me with compassion, she said goodbye to me forever. And it was you at that summer a year and a half.

Yuri Kazakov

In a dream you cried bitterly

There was one of those summer warm days ... We stood with a friend and talked near our house. You looked around near us, among the grass and the colors that were on your shoulders, or squatted, looking at some kind of cheating or blade for a long time, and from your face, an indefinite semi-jumble, which I tried to solve it in vain.

Coming among the bushes of a hazel, sometimes came to us Spaniel Chif. He stayed somewhat sideways to you and, wolf putting a shoulder, turning the neck tightly, put on your coffee eyes in your direction and prayed you, waiting for you to looked at him. Then he would instantly fell asleep on the front paws, would turn the short tail and would face a conspiratorial lamin. But for some reason you were afraid of Chif, I walked him in dangerously, hugged me for his knee, looked back my head, looked into my face in the face, reflecting the sky with my eyes and uttered joyfully, gently, as if returned from afar:

And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands.

Random your hugs touched, probably, and my comrade, because he suddenly shook, fluffy your hair and long, thoughtfully contemplated you.

Now he will never look at you with tenderness, he will not speak with you, because it is already not in the world, but you, of course, do not remember him, as you do not remember and much more ...

He shot himself in late autumn, when the first snow fell. But did he see this snow if the veranda glasses looked through the glasses on a suddenly a rice neighborhood? Or he shot himself at night? And whether the snow was piling back from the evening, or the earth was black when he arrived at the train and, as in Calvary, went to his house?

After all, the first snow is so pacifying, so Melancholic, so he throws us into the drums of peaceful duma ...

And when, which minute this terrible thing entered it, as a sting, rejustful thought? And for a long time, probably ... After all, he said, I have not yet once, what attacks he is experiencing in early spring or late in autumn, when alone lives at the cottage, and how he wants to shoot everything. But also to say - who among us in the moments of longing, such words do not break down?

And he had nights terrible, when he did not sleep, and everything seemed to: someone climbs into the house, breathe cold, fascinates. And this is death climb!

- Listen, give me, for the sake of God, the cartridges! He asked once. - I ran away. Everyone, you know, might at night, - someone walks around the house! And everywhere - quiet, like in a coffin ... you give?

And I gave him six cartridges.

"Enough for you," I said, laughing, "shoot.

And what worker he was, what reproach for me was always his life, constantly cheering, active. No matter how you come to him - and, if in the summer you will go on the side of the veranda, - raise your eyes to the dissolved window at the top, in the mezzanine, you smoke quietly:

- Ay! - Immediately hesitate in response, and it will seem in the window of his face, and he looks at you with a blurred eye on you. Then - a weak smile, with a thin hand:

- I'm now!

And now it is lower, on the veranda, in his gross sweater, and it seems that he is particularly deep and dimly breathe after work, and you look at him with pleasure, with envy, as it happened, you look at the vigorous young horse, all asking Oveners, everything picks up from the step on trot.

- What are you blooming! - He told me when I was sick or Handryl. - You take an example from me! I bathe in clear to deep autumn! What are you all sitting or lying! Stand up, Take the gymnastics ...

The last time I saw him in mid-October. He came to me in a wonderful sunny day, as always perfectly dressed, in a fluffy cap. His face was sad, but we began to be cheerful - about Buddhism for some reason, that it's time, it's time to take the big novels that only in daily work is the only joy, and you can work every day only when you write a big thing...

I went to accomplish him. He suddenly cried, turning away.

"When I was like your Alyosha," he spoke, somewhat calming, "the sky seemed to me so high, so blue!" Then it faded for me, but it's from age? After all, it is the former? You know, I'm afraid Abramseva! I'm afraid I'm afraid ... the longer I live here, the more I pull me here. But this is sinful - so indulge in one place? Did you wear Alya on my shoulders? And I first wore my own, and then we went on bikes somewhere in the forest, and I all spoke to them, spoke about Abramtsev, about the local Radonezh land - I so wanted them to love her, because, truly , these are their homeland! Ah, look, look soon, what a maple!

Then he began to talk about the winter plans. And the sky was so blue, so golden-thick glows under the sun maple leaves! And we said goodbye to him especially friendly, especially gentle ...

And three weeks later, in Gagra - as if thunder struck for me! As if the night shot, which sounded in Abramtsev, flew and flew through the whole of Russia, until I nasty me on the seashore. And just like now, when I am writing this, I beat myself and extended the depth my smell of the sea in the dark, far right, curved onion rich bay, the pearl chain of the lanterns glowed ...

You are five years old! We sat with you on the dark coast, near the invisible in the darkness of the surf, listened to his hum, listened to the wet cliking crackling of pebbles, rolling back, following the runaway wave. I don't know what you thought about, because you were silent, but I was thinking that I was going to Abramtsevo from the station home, but not that expensive what I usually went. And the sea was gone for me, the night mountains were guessing, guessing only on highly luminous lights rare houses, "I walked along a cobblestone, covered with the first snow road, and when I looked around, then I saw my distinct black traces on the ash light. I turned left, passed past a black pond in the brightened shores, entered the darkness of the firs, turned right ... I looked right in front of myself and in a dead end, the street saw his cottage, autumn firing, with shutting windows.

When did it happen? In the evening? At night?

For some reason I wanted to come already an uncertain dawn in early November, that it's time for him, when it was only for a very dark snow, yes for the trees that spoke out of the general dark mass guess about the nursing day.

So I come to his house, I will answer the gate, I climb the steps of the veranda and see ...

"Listen," he asked somehow me, - and a shot charge is a strong charge? If you shoot from close distance? " - "Still would! - I answered. - If you shoot from the half-meter on aspen, well, let's say, in the hand thick, the mouth will cut this as a razor! "

Until now, the thought is tortured - what would I do, I see him sitting on the veranda with a rifle with a crusher, with a roller foot? Would the door cane, would you knock the glass, would shouter to the entire district? Or I would take a glance in fear and hoped the spirit in the hope that if it was not disturbed, he would blow up a rifle, carefully, holding a thumb, hesitate the trigger, deeply sighs, as if quiet from nightmare, and would wear a shoe?

And what would he, if I knocked out the glass and screamed, "would throw a gun and rushed with joy to me or - on the contrary, looking with hate already dead eyes on me, hurried to pull the foot for the trigger? Until now, my soul flies into the house, that night, to him, it is being strengthened to merge with him, follows his every movement, hesitate to guess his thoughts - and can not, retreats ...

I know that he got to the cottage late in the evening. What did he do to these last hours? First of all, changed clothes, as a habit, carefully hung your city suit in the closet. Then brought firewood to protruding the oven. Eating apples. I do not think that the fatal decision overlooked it immediately - what suicide eats apples and getting ready to turn the oven!

Then he suddenly thought to drown and lay down. Here then, most likely, to him and came this is! What did he remember and remember him in his last minutes? Or just got ready? Did you cry? ..

Then he washed away and put on pure it's better.

The gun hung on the wall. He took it off, felt cold gravity, the disability of steel trunks. Tsevier obediently fell into the left palm. Thugs leaned under the thumb to the right tongue of the castle. The gun was broken in the castle, opened, as two tunnels, a cinema cut of two of their stems. And one of the trunks is easy, smoothly entered the cartridge. My cartridge!

Around the house burned light. He lit the light on the veranda. I sat on a chair, removed the shoe with the right leg. With a ringing in a coffin silence, the trigger stuck. Invested in his mouth and clenched his teeth, feeling the taste of oily cold metal, trunks ...

Yes! But did you immediately sat down and removed the shoe? Or I stood all night, pressing the forehead to the glass, and the glass faded from tears? Or walked around the site, saying goodbye to the trees, with a clear, with the sky, with such a favorite bath? And she immediately got a finger on the desired trigger or, on the everight of his inefficient, in naught, he pressed not on that hook and lied for a long time, rubing cold sweat And gathering with new forces? And was he clogged before the shot or until the last prison flash in the brain looked widely revealed eyes on anything?

No, not weakness - the great life strength and hardness is needed in order to break their lives as he broke off!

But why, why? - I am looking for and I do not find a response. Or in this, so cheerful, such an active life were the secret suffering? But I never know the sufferers we see around yourself! No, not this, this does not lead to the dunge of the gun. So, still from birth was he noted by some fatal sign? And really on each of us it is not suitable for us to print, predetermining the entire course of our life?

My soul wanders in dotmakes ...

Well, then we were all alive, and as I said already, stood in Zenith a long-long day, one of those summer days, which, when we remember them after years, seem to us endless.

Reworing with me, having risening your hair again, gently touching his lips, in a mustache and a beard, your forehead, from what a spade to you and you walked a happy laughter, - Mitya went to her home, and we took a big apple and went to Hike, which, anticipated in the morning. Seeing that we gathered on the road, Chiff came immediately for us, immediately overtook us, hardly having hit you, and embraced our ears, like a butterfly with wings, high and far jumping, disappeared into the forest.

Oh, what a long way was to have - a little bit of a kilometer! And what kind of variety awaited us on this path, the truth is more partly a familiar to you, which is more than once, but is it at one time it looks like another time, even even one hour to another? It happened overcast when we walked, then sunny, Rosisto, then the sky was completely clouded with clouds, then I grew and rolled through the thunder, then the rain was raining and the beads drove the dried lower branches of firings, and your red boots were affectionately, and the path , then the wind blew and buried the aspen, shrewd the tops of the birch and ate, it happened morning, then noon, it was cold, it was hot - not a single day didn't look like another, not one hour, not a single bush, nor a tree - nothing!

This time the sky was cloudless, calm pale blue, without the piercing blue, which rollers pour into our eyes in early spring or hurts into the soul in the breaks of low clouds in late autumn. And on you that day there were brown sandals, yellow socks, red pants and lemon shirt. Your knees were scratched, legs, shoulders and hands are white, and for some reason darkened with pistachio specks, and cried and cried ...

At first, we went to the opposite side of the side, to the rear gate, along the path, made by sunny spots, crossing through fir rhizomes, and the needles gently spring on our feet. Then you stopped as the inspected, looking around. I immediately realized that you need a stick, without which you did not imagine for some reason my walkings, found a nut whip, broke it and gave you a stick.

Having hauled from the joy that I guess your desire, you took her and again soon ran ahead, touching the trunks of the trees, approached the path, and tall, with violin curls on the tops, still wet fern.

Looking from above on the flashes your legs, on a gentle neck with a silver pigtail, on a fluffy hokholok on the top of the top, I tried and imagine myself small, and immediately memories have surrendered me but any early childhood I remember, I was everywhere older than you, while suddenly In the forest lumen on the left, in the forest spirit, which surrounded us, did not rush on the side of the valley, for the bottom of which the clearness flowed, the warm smell of heated in the sun of meadows.

- Ale-Shihov No-LCD ... - Naraspov, mechanically said.

"They run along to the roast ..." You immediately responded, and for the fluttering of your transparent ears, I realized that you smiled.

Yes, and I also ran to once, in the darkness of time, and it was summer, the sun was drunk, and the same meadow smell was driven by a fragrant breeze ...

I saw a big field somewhere near Moscow, which divided, disconnected people who gathered on this field. In one pile, standing on the edge of a fluid birch fishing line, there were for some reason only women and children. Many women cried, wiping her eyes with red jams. And on the other side of the field there were men built in the rank. The hill was treated behind the Shero, on which the brown-red heats stood, calm far ahead and producing a high black smoke locomotive. And in front of Shero, people in the gymnasters were packed.

And my short-sighted mother also cried, indifferently wiped the incoming tears, pushed and everything asked: "Do you see dad, son, see? Where is he, show at least from what edge he? " - "I see!" - I answered and really saw the Father standing on the right edge. And the father saw us, smiled, waving his hand, and I did not understand why he would not fit to us or we are.

Suddenly, in our crowd, some current swept, several boys and girls with nodules in the hands were fed out on meadow space. Having hurriedly put me a heavy knot with linen and tin cans, the mother pushed me, shouting after: "Run, son, to dad, give him a kiss, tell me that we are waiting for him!" - And I, tired of the heat, from long standing, was delighted and ran ...

Together with others, a flammable naked tanned knees, I ran through the field, and my heart was killed from delight, that finally my father would drive me, take me to his hands, kisses and I will hear his voice again and such a cozy smell of tobacco - after all, I have long I did not see the Father, that a short memory of him turned on as ashes and wrapped his pity for himself for himself that I am alone without his coarse cornstorm palms, without his voice, without his gaze on himself. I fled, looking at myself under my feet, then on my father, from whom I had already distinguished the mole on the temple, and suddenly I saw that his face became unfortunate, and the closer I ran to him, the more restlessly became in Sherge, where the father stood. ..

Going across the gate to the forest, we turned right, towards the rotunda, which our neighbor once began to build, but did not complete, and now she was wildly serving with her concrete dome and columns among the green of the Elovo-Aldhova, and which you loved for a long time, With admiration to consider.

To the left of us rolled over the pebbles of your jets a tiny river clearushka. We have not yet seen it for the born bushes of nuts and raspberries, but they knew that the path would bring us to the cliff under the rotunda, under which the cups and rare leaves were slowly spinning in a small dark damp.

The sun was broken by the sun, in his light honey bent the wavy leaks of resin, blood drops flashed there and Syam Strawberry, the moss, invisible in the dense of foliage broke, echoed the birds, flashed in a sunny ray, moved from the tree to the protein tree, And the branch, a moment ago left by her, stopped, the world is bullshit ...

- Look, Alyosha, Squirrel! See? Won she looks at you ...

You looked up, saw the squirrel and dropped a stick. You always drop her, if you suddenly occupied something else. After hesing the squirrel with his eyes, until she disappeared, you remembered a stick, picked it up and went on the road again.

To meet us, along the trail, jumping so high as if he wanted to fly, jumped chiff. Having stopped, he contemplated us for a while with his deep long, like the Gazelle, eyes, asking: whether to run everything forward to him, aren't we going to turn back or aside? I silently showed him a path, according to which we walked, he understood and grumbled further.

After a minute, we heard his gambling bark, which did not move around the sound, and came from one place. So he did not drive anyone, and something found and called us as soon as possible.

- Do you hear? - I said to you. - Our chief has found something and call us!

So that you do not intersect about the Christmas tree and get to walk, I took you on my hands. Lai was heard all closer, and soon under a huge beautiful birch, standing by a few mansion on eco-green, lilac and yellow moss, we saw Chifa and heard not only his barking, but also passionate, choking sobs during sighs.

He found hedgehog. Bereza stood in thirty from the path, and I once again moving him to a little. All moss around the hedgehog was extracting. Having envy us, the chief began to breach even the forest. I put you on the ground, dragged the chiff for the collar, and we crumble in front of the hedgehog.

"This is a hedgehog," I said, "repeat: hedgehog."

- Hedgehog ... - you said and touched it with a stick. Hedgehog fucked and slightly jumped. You pulled down a stick, lost the balance and sat on the moss.

"You do not be afraid," I said, "only he doesn't need to touch him. Now he curled the ball, alone needles sticking out. And when we leave, he will drown a spout and run on his affairs. He also walks, like you ... He needs a lot to walk, because he sleeps a whole winter. He falls asleep with snow, and he sleeps. Do you remember winter? Do you remember how we rolled you on sledes?

You smiled mysteriously. Lord, whatever I gave to just know what you smile as vaguely alone with me or listening to me! Do not you know something that much more important than all my knowledge and all my experience?

And I remembered the day when I arrived at the maternity hospital. You were then pretty heavy, as it seemed to me, a tight and hard bundle, which nynechka presented for some reason. I have not yet brought you to the car, as I felt that inside a convolution - warm and living, even though your face was covered and I did not feel your breathing.

At home we immediately melted you. I expected to see something red and wrinkled, as always they write about the newborn, but there was no redness and grinding. You shone white, moved strikingly with thin handles and legs and it was important to look at us with big eyes of an indefinite gray-blue color. You were all a miracle, and only one spoiled your appearance - a patch sticker on the navel.

Soon you were again ripened, fed and laid sleep, and we all went to the kitchen. For tea, the conversation began for women's feet: about diapers, about polling milk before feeding, about bathing and other of the same important items. I got up everything, sat near you and for a long time examined your face. And when I came to you on the third or fourth time, I suddenly saw that you smile in a dream and your face trembles ...

What did your smile mean? Did you see dreams? But what kind of dreams could you see what could you dream that you could know where your thoughts wandered and did you have then? But not only a smile - your face has acquired an expression of an elevated, things of knowledge, some clouds running around him, every moment it became different, but the total harmony did not fade him, did not change. Never during wakefulness - whether you cried or laughed or watched silently on multicolored rattles hanged over your bed - I didn't have such an expression that I struck me when you slept, and I, hopping my breath, thought that You are going on. "When the babies smile are so smiling," then my mother said, "it means that their angels are amused."

So now, sitting on the hedgehog, you answered my question unclear with my smile and silent, and I did not understand, do you remember winter. And the first Winter in Abramtsev was wonderful! Snow fell away at night, and in the afternoon the sun was so pink, that the sky became pink, and the shaggy from the fucking birch ... You went out into the air, in the snow, in the boots and in the fur coat, to the thick that your hands are in Thick mittens were spread. You sat in Sanki, I surely took a stick in your hand, "a few sticks of different lengths were leaning at the porch, and you chose another each time," we took you out for the gate, and a stopping trip began. Drawing stick in the snow, you took to talk to myself, with the sky, with the forest, with birds, with a squeak of snow under our legs and under the sledge of Sanok, and everyone listened to you and understood, we did not understand, because you have not yet Skilled. You pouring into different frets, you are bouffroal and Agucal, and all your Va-Va-Wa, and La la-la, and Yu-Yu-Yu, and Uip-type-UIP meant for us only that you are good.

Then you fell silent, and we, looking around, saw that your stick was black on the road far behind, and you, spreading your hands, sleep, and the blush was burning in your tight cheeks. We took you an hour and two, and you all slept - I slept so hard that later, when we made you in the house, we were delivered, undressed, unbuttoned and unleashed, put it on the bed, - you did not wake up ...

Looking at the hedgehog, we came out again onto the path and soon approached Rotunde. You first saw her, stopped and, as always, spore with pleasure:

- Kaka-Aya Bo "Sha-Aya, to" Asi-Laying Tower!

For some time, you looked at her away, repeating with an astounded tone, as if I saw her for the first time: "What Ba-Ashnya!", Then we came up, and you began to touch her columns with her wand. Then you looked down, on a small loon of transparent Outka, and I immediately filed your hand. So, hand in hand, we descended carefully from the cliff to the water itself. A little lower was thrown, and the water rang there, the mistakes did not seem immivalent, and the current could be found if it was long to monitor some floating leaf, which was moved to the ride almost with the slower arrows. I sat on the firing fir and lit, because I knew that I would have to sit here until you enjoy all the delights of the Outka.

Throwing a stick, you went to a very convenient root for you at the water itself, lay on it with a breast and began to look into the water. Strange, but you didn't like to play with ordinary toys in this summer, and loved to engage in objects the smallest. Without the end, you could move on the palm of some sand, a chevying, tiny blade. Millimeter piece of paint, inconed to you from the wall of the house, drove you for a contemplative pleasure. The life, the existence of bees, flies, butterflies and midges took you incomparably more than the existence of cats, dogs, cows, forty, protein and birds. What infinity, what an incurredness opened to you at the bottom of the Outka, when you, lying on the root, bringing the face almost to the water itself, looked at this bottom! How many large and small sand grains were there, how many pebbles of all sorts of shades, what kind of gentle green fluff covered large stones, how long there were transparent fry, then frozen motionless, then at once splashing aside, and how much microscopic items visible only by your eye!

- P "AUT" OKS ... - You told me a minute later.

"Ah," I said, applying and straightening around you, "So I didn't go back in a big river?" These are such little fish, fry ...

"T-shirts ..." You happily agreed.

Water in the Outlock was so transparent that only the blue sky and the tops of the trees reflected in it, made it visible. You, having jerking through the root, threw a handful of pebbles from the bottom. The cloud of the smallest grades was formed near the bottom and, having hooked a bit, Op. You threw pebbles into the water, the trees reflected, and by how hurriedly you began to climb, I realized that you remembered your beloved lesson. For you, it is time to throw stones.

I sat down again on the brazed tree, and you chose a larger stone, I looked like it from all sides, went to the water itself and threw it in the middle of the Outka. The splashes took off, surrounded by wavy jets of air, the stone was deeply glad about the bottom, and the circles went on the water. And enjoying the view of the agitated water, splashes, a stone of a stone, a splash of water, you waited until everything calms down, took another stone and, as the first time, looking around him, again threw ...

So you threw and threw, admiring the bursts and waves, and the world around was quiet and beautiful - no longer came the noise of the train, not a single aircraft flew, no one passed away by us, no one seen us. One chif occasionally appeared with that, then on the other hand, having dried his tongue, he ran into the river with a splash, looked noisily and, questioningly looked at us, again disappeared.

A mosquito sat on my shoulder, you did not notice him for a long time, then I drove the mosquito, wrinkled and approached me.

- Komik Kusil ... - You said, fuse.

I scratched your shoulder, blew on it, patted.

- Well? What are we going to do now? Still throw out or let's go further?

"Let's go disel," you decided.

I took you on my hands, moved through the clear. We needed to cross the sweaty valley, along which the solid curtains of the meduse stretched. The white caps of her seemed to melt in the sun, flowed and were filled with a happy bee buzz.

The path began to rise - first among the spruce and the flavory, then between the oaks and birches, until it brought us to a large meadow, bordered to the right forest, and on the left, turning into the wavy field. We rose, already in the meadow, all the above, until they rose to his top, and it became far from seeing, the horizon opened with barely noticeable injuries of the antennas, with a thin haze over invisible torn. Senokos has already begun on the meadow, and even though the hay was still in the rolls, but barely lost the breeze already drove the worst smell over the ground. You and I got in not yet confused grass and colors, and I drowned in them on the shoulders, you went to them with my head, and there was one sky over you. I remembered an apple, took it out of my pocket, to the brilliance wiped about the grass and gave you. You took both hands and immediately bit off, and the trace of the bite was similar to the Belich.

The circle of us extended one of the oldest Russian lands - Land Radonezh, the quiet specific principality of the Moscow Earth. Over the edge of the field, high, smooth slow circles went two cruise. I didn't get anything with you from the past, the land itself changed, the villages and forests, and the Radonezh disappeared, as if he was not, one memory of him was left, yes, those two KORSHUAN go round, like a thousand years ago, yes, maybe Being clearly flows all the same channel ...

You got an apple, but your thoughts, I saw, were far away. You also noticed Korshun and watched them for a long time, butterflies flew over you, some of them attracted by the red color of your pants, they tried to sit on them, but they immediately soaked, and you gave up their delightful flight. You said little and briefly, but in the face of your eyes it was clear that you think you were constantly. Oh, how I wanted to become at least a minute to you to know your thoughts! After all, you were already a man!

I again looked around and thought that this day, these clouds, for which in our region, at that moment, maybe, no one watched, besides us with you, this forest river downstairs and pebbles at the bottom of her, thrown by your hand, and clean jets that flow around them, this field air, this white packed path in the field, between the walls of oats, already twisted bluish-silver hoarfrost, and as always, beautifully from the village, the trembling horizon for her, - this day, like some other of the earliest days My life will remain in me forever. But do you remember this day? Did you eveake your gaze far, deeply back, will you feel that you have lived for years as if not and are you again a tiny boy running on the shoulders in the colors, scareting butterflies? Did you really not remember yourself and me and the sun, the shoulders are hot to you, this taste, this sound is implausually long summer day?

But this is all the canal, on which strange law will be cut off, will cover the haired non-existence, where is this happiest dazzling time of the start of life disappear, the time of gentle infancy?

I even threw my hands in despair from the thought, which is the biggest time, the time when a person is born, it closes from us with some veil. So you! You already knew so much, I already acquired a character, habits, learned to speak, and even better understand speech, you already have a favorite and unloved ...

But anyone ask - everything remembers themselves from five to six years. And before? Or still not everything is forgotten and sometimes comes to us as an instant flash, from the earliest childhood, from the source of days? Has not experienced almost everyone, how, seeing something, even a laundry, ordinary, puddle some on the autumn road, having heard a sound or smell, you wonder suddenly intense thought: it was already with me, I saw it, survived! When where? And in this Life or in life is completely different? And a long time to remember, catch an instant in the past - and you can't.

The time of your daily sleep came, and we went home. Chiff came running for a long time, I skipped myself in the thick grass to the pussy and, stretching, slept, opposing in the sleep of my paws.

The house was quiet. Bright squares of the sun lay on the floors. While I undressed you in your room and pulled a pajama on you, you managed to remember everything that I saw on this day. At the end of our conversation, you twitched the two times frankly. Putting you into bed, I went to myself. In my opinion, you managed to fall asleep before I came out. I sat down at the open window, lit and began to think about you. I represented your future life, but, strange, I did not want to see you with an adult, a shaving beard, caring for girls, smoking cigarettes... I wanted to see you as long as you can see you - not as you were then, at that summer, and, say, ten-year-old. What journeys are not started with you, than just did not get carried away!

Then from the future I returned to the present and again with melancholy thought that you wiser me that you know something that I once knew, and now I forgot, I forgot ... that and still on the light then So that the eyes of a child looked at him! That the kingdom of God belongs to you! Do not say these words, but, it means, and thousands of years ago felt the mysterious superiority of children? What threw them over us? Innocence or some higher knowledge, disappearing with age?

So there was more hours, and the sun moved noticeably, the shadows lengthened when you were crying.

I poked a cigarette in the ashtray and went to you, thinking that you woke up and something needed to you.

But you slept, picking my knees. Your tears flowed so richly that the pillow quickly wet. You sobbed bitterly, with desperate hopelessness. At all, you cried when I hurt or capricious. Then you just roared. And now - as if mourned something forever gone. You littered from sobs, and your voice has changed!

Dreams - just a messy display of reality? But if so, what reality did you dream? What have you seen in addition to our attentive, gentle eyes, except for our smiles, except for toys, sun, moon and stars? What did you hear, besides the sounds of water, rustling forest, singing birds, burning the noise of rain on the roof and a lullaby mother? What did you manage to know in the world, except for the quiet happiness of life, so bitter cry in a dream? You did not suffer and did not regret the past, and the fear of death was you unknown! What did you dream? Or are we already in infancy grieves the soul, afraid of the upcoming suffering?

I carefully began to wake you, patting on the shoulder, stroking your hair.

"Son, wake up, dear," I said, slightly tormented your hand. - Get up, get up, Alyosha! Alesha! Get up ...

You woke up, quickly sat down and handed my hands to me. I raised you, pressed firmly and, deliberately cheerful voice seniting: "Well, what are you! You dreamed you, look, what a sunshine! " - began to move away, lean on the side of the curtains.

The room was lit by the light, but you melt everything, bolding my face into my shoulder, intermittently dialing in my chest and so hard clutching my fingers to my neck, which hurts me.

- Now we will dare ... Look, what a bird flew ... And where is our white fluffy vaska? Alesha! Well, Aleshka, cute, don't be afraid of anything, everything went ... who is there it goes, isn't Mama? - I said that I got, trying to entertain you.

Gradually, you began to calm down. Your mouth was still sorely shrieled, but the smile had already made his face on his face. Finally, you spawned and lit up, seeing your beloved to you, hanging on the window a tiny tidy jug, gently spoiled, enjoying only this word:

- Quinchi-IR ...

You reached for him, did not attempt to grab him, as usual usually children's favorite toy, "no, you looked at him with washout tears and from it particularly clean eyes, rushing to his shape and painted icing.

Wash you, ridding the napkin, settled at the table, I suddenly realized that something happened to you: you didn't knock on the table, did not laugh, did not say "soon!" - You looked at me seriously, I was silent. I felt like you leave me, your soul, merging so far with mine, - now far and every year it will be left all over, giving up that you are no longer me, not my continuation and my soul never catch up you, you You will leave forever. In your deep, the nobody look I saw your soul leaving me, she looked at me with compassion, she said goodbye to me forever!

I stretched over to you, hurried to be at least nearby, I saw that I was behind that my life carries me in the same side, whereas you from nowend went to your dear.

Such despair covered me, so grief! But the hoarse, the weak voice sounded in me and the hope that our souls someday somewhere together, so that it is never separated. Yes! But where, when will it be?

Fit, brother you are mine, it was and for me to cry ...

And it was you at that summer a year and a half.

Yuri Kazakov

In a dream you cried bitterly

And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands.

Random your hugs touched, probably, and my comrade, because he suddenly shook, fluffy your hair and long, thoughtfully contemplated you.

Now he will never look at you with tenderness, he will not speak with you, because it is already not in the world, but you, of course, do not remember him, as you do not remember and much more ...

After all, the first snow is so pacifying, so Melancholic, so he throws us into the drums of peaceful duma ...

And he had nights terrible, when he did not sleep, and everything seemed to: someone climbs into the house, breathe cold, fascinates. And this is death climb!

And I gave him six cartridges.

"Enough for you," I said, laughing, "shoot.

- Ay! - Immediately hesitate in response, and it will seem in the window of his face, and he looks at you with a blurred eye on you. Then - a weak smile, with a thin hand:

- I'm now!

- What are you blooming! - He told me when I was sick or Handryl. - You take an example from me! I bathe in clear to deep autumn! What are you all sitting or lying! Stand up, Take the gymnastics ...

I went to accomplish him. He suddenly cried, turning away.

Then he began to talk about the winter plans. And the sky was so blue, so golden-thick glows under the sun maple leaves! And we said goodbye to him especially friendly, especially gentle ...

When did it happen? In the evening? At night?

So I come to his house, I will answer the gate, I climb the steps of the veranda and see ...

Then he suddenly thought to drown and lay down. Here then, most likely, to him and came this is! What did he remember and remember him in his last minutes? Or just got ready? Did you cry? ..

There was one of the summer warm days ...

We were standing and talked to the comrade near our house. You looked around near us, among the colors and herbs, who were on your shoulders, and from your face, an indefinite semi-jumble was gone, which I tried in vain to solve. Around the bushes, sometimes came to us Spaniel Chif. But for some reason you were afraid of Chif, hugged me for my knee, looked back my head, looked into my face in the face, reflecting the sky with my eyes and uttered joyfully, gently, as if returned from afar: "Dad!" And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands. Random your arms touched, probably, and my comrade, because he shouted suddenly, shershed fluffy your hair and thoughtfully contemplated you long ...

A friend shot himself late in the fall, when the first snow fell ... How, when did this terrible relictime thought entered him? For a long time, probably ... After all, he said it to me more than once, what attacks of longing is experiencing early in spring or late in autumn. And he had terrible nights, when it washed that someone climbs into his house to him, someone walks around. "For God's sake, give me cartridges," he asked me. And I squeezed him six rounds: "This is enough to shoot." And what an employee he was - always vigorous, active. And I said: "What are you blooming! Take an example with me. I bathe in clear to deep autumn! What are you all lying or sitting! Get up, come with gymnastics. " The last time I saw him in mid-October. We talked about Buddhism for some reason, that it is time to take the big novels that only in daily work and there is the only joy. And when they said goodbye, he suddenly cried: "When I was like Alyosha, the sky seemed to me so much, so blue. Why did it be overgrown? .. And the more I live here, the stronger pulls me here, in Abramtsevo. After all, this is sin - so indulge in one place? " And three weeks later in Gagra - as if thunder from the sky I ran ache! And the sea disappeared for me, the night people disappeared ... when's all this happened? In the evening? At night? I know that he got in the cottage in the evening. What did he do? First of all, he moved and habit in the cabinet his city costume. Then brought firewood for the stove. Eating apples. Then he suddenly thought to drown the oven and lay down. Here, then, most likely, and came about! What did he remember about the farewell? Did you cry? Then he washed away and put on her pure it ... The gun hung on the wall. He removed him, feeling cold gravity, the disability of steel trunks. One of the trunks easily entered the cartridge. M about th cartridge. I sat on a chair, removed the shoe from my feet, put in the mouth of the trunks ... no, not weakness - the great life strength and hardness is needed in order to break your life as it cut off!

But why, why? - I am looking for me and I do not find a response. Is it really an unknown seal on each of us, determining the whole course of our longeous life? .. My soul wanders in dotmakes ...

And then we were still alive, and there was one of the summer days, which we remember through the years and who seem to us endless. Run with me and having riser your hair once again, my friend went home. And we took a big apple and went hiking. Oh, what long path we had to - almost a kilometer! - And how many diverse life awaited us on this path: I ripped off my waters a little river clearly; on branches jumped squirrel; Chief Lyal, finding hedgehog, and we looked at the hedgehog, and you wanted to touch His hand, but the hedgehog fucked, and you, having lost the balance, sat down on Moss; Then we went to the rotunda, and you said: "What Ba-Ashnya!"; You have a breastfeeding at the river and began to look into the water: "P" AUT "OKS," you told me a minute later; On the shoulder to you, Komar sat down: "Komik Kusil ..." - you said, fascinated. I remembered an apple, took it out of my pocket, to the brilliance wiped about the grass and gave you. You took both hands and immediately bit off, and the trace of the bite was similar to the Belich (no, blessed, was beautiful our world.

The time of your daily sleep was coming, and we went home. While I undressed you and tightened a pajama, you managed to remember everything that I saw on this day. At the end of the conversation, you drank twice. In my opinion, you managed to fall asleep before I left the room. I sat down at the window and thought about: Do you remember when this endless day and our journey? Did everyone ever survived with you, somewhere irrevocably kanet? And heard you cried. I went to you, thinking that you woke up and something you need. But you slept, picking my knees. Your tears flowed so richly that the pillow quickly wet. You sobbed with bitter, with desperate hopelessness. As if mourned something, forever gone. What have you managed to know in life to cry so bitter in a dream? Or are we already in infancy grieves the soul, afraid of the upcoming suffering? "Son, wake up, cute," I told you by my hand. You woke up, quickly sat down and handed my hands to me. Gradually, you began to calm down. Wash you and putting at the table, I suddenly realized that something happened to you - you looked at me seriously, I was silent. And I felt you left from me. Your soul, merging so far with mine, is now far and every year will be farther. She looked at me with compassion, she said goodbye to me forever. And it was you at that summer a year and a half.

And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands.

Random your hugs touched, probably, and my comrade, because he suddenly shook, fluffy your hair and long, thoughtfully contemplated you.

Now he will never look at you with tenderness, he will not speak with you, because it is already not in the world, but you, of course, do not remember him, as you do not remember and much more ...

After all, the first snow is so pacifying, so Melancholic, so he throws us into the drums of peaceful duma ...

And he had nights terrible, when he did not sleep, and everything seemed to: someone climbs into the house, breathe cold, fascinates. And this is death climb!

And I gave him six cartridges.

"Enough for you," I said, laughing, "shoot.

- Ay! - Immediately hesitate in response, and it will seem in the window of his face, and he looks at you with a blurred eye on you. Then - a weak smile, with a thin hand:

- I'm now!

- What are you blooming! - He told me when I was sick or Handryl. - You take an example from me! I bathe in clear to deep autumn! What are you all sitting or lying! Stand up, Take the gymnastics ...

I went to accomplish him. He suddenly cried, turning away.

Then he began to talk about the winter plans. And the sky was so blue, so golden-thick glows under the sun maple leaves! And we said goodbye to him especially friendly, especially gentle ...

When did it happen? In the evening? At night?

So I come to his house, I will answer the gate, I climb the steps of the veranda and see ...

Then he suddenly thought to drown and lay down. Here then, most likely, to him and came this is! What did he remember and remember him in his last minutes? Or just got ready? Did you cry? ..

In a dream, you cried bitterly. Evgeny Yevtushenko - "Long Creek"

Report typos

The text that will be sent to our editors:

Your comment (optional):