Rus Articles Journal

Nika Turbina: so who I am?

As are sick, help!

In eyes - trouble!

But years - spider lines

Will thaw without trace.

the Hand you will not lean -

Smothering it is empty.

wanders About wolf

Tracks

my star


on May 11, 2002 Nika Turbina who struck the world as the girl - the poetess, the child prodigy whose children`s verses were executed by grief, tragic element and absolutely serious attitude broke, at the age of 28 years having jumped out from the fifth floor of the house in which lived...

I - a wormwood - a grass,

Bitterness on lips,

Bitterness in words,

Ya - a wormwood - a grass.

And over the steppe groan.

Wind is surrounded with

the small stalk Is thin,

Is broken it

Pain gave rise by

the Bitter tear.

To the earth will fall -

Ya - a wormwood - a grass
Nick Turbin`s

- the girl from Yalta which composed verses, without having managed to master the diploma yet. Since the early childhood she suffered from a sharp form of bronchial asthma, with asthma attacks, sleeplessness, nightmares.

Inexplicably it began to rhyme words, lines, to compose verses. This occupation gradually seized it, became both an illness, and passion, rescue, pleasure of life. She was 4 years old. She was not able to write, asked mother to write down and when she was 9 years old, her first collection of verses " was published; Draft copy . As wrote newspapers, it were the genius`s verses .

My verses -

Stones uphill are heavy. I Will carry

them to the rock,

To an emphasis.

I Will fall face down in a grass, will not drop down

of Tears,

I Will break off the stanza -

the Verse will begin to cry.

Pain will crash into a palm

the Nettle.

Will turn bitterness of day

All into words


O to it were written by newspapers, showed on television, thousands of admirers delightfully listened to it in the Soviet Union, Italy, the United States. In Venice it was awarded with a prestigious award in the field of arts Golden lion having become the second Russian poetess after Anna Akhmatova who received this award.

Who I am? Eyes with whose I watch

at the world?

of Friends? Family? Fly into a rage? Trees? Birds?

Lips with whose I catch

dew From the fallen leaf on a pavement?

Hands with whose I embrace the world,

Which is so helpless, fragile? the voice I lose

Ya in voices

of the Woods, fields, rains, blizzards, nights

So who am I??

B than me to look for itself?

to Answer as all voices of the nature?


But suddenly mysterious talent a miracle - the child began to run low. She wrote verses till 12 years, and gradually the triumph was succeeded by troubles: Nika had no education, there was no work, it began to drink, cut veins, to forget own verses, to try to commit suicide

Nika Turbina`s Phenomenon, experts of many countries of the world tried to understand her riddle and paradox. Outstanding psychologists, doctors, psychics, poets tried to solve Nika`s phenomenon, the child blessed with the improbable gift of emotional perception, suffering, flour.

It was called emotional explosion, brilliant talent, the newcomer from Space, poetic Mozart . Considered that the gift which came to Nika is not a whim as some consider, and some form of protection of the child for fear of death, pain, sleeplessness, nightmares: such protection is sent, maybe, by the Universe, or God - to whom somehow to imagine . How differently it is possible to understand verses which she wrote in eight years?

Nika went crazy. Or perhaps on the contrary, did not want to descend how all of us? Anyway in the warm May afternoon in Moscow area Nika who above all was afraid of loneliness went to the final journey absolutely one.

That read the burial service over Nika, Alyona Galich, her favourite teacher, wrote down in posthumous papers that it not suicide. In the column about a cause of death put a crossed out section. Its ashes were buried on the Vagankovo Cemetery by

Among us, normal, there are people who to us seem abnormal. Frequent it is alcoholics, addicts, suicides. The feeling of never-ending death tragic element proceeds from their each movement, each look, each breath. They speak not that it is necessary, and what is. They do not that from them wait, and the fact that they consider it necessary. They are not able to lie, play the hypocrite, pretend to be, to earn money, to be practical and useful. And we, normal, often feeling the lameness and insolvency near these blissful, we do everything that they left us quicker.

So also Nika left. Could not live in this new world mammons, freedoms, frenzy. And nothing remained. Only its verses which also, seemingly, are not necessary to us.

As often

Ya I try to catch sidelong glances.

I caustic words,

As arrows,

Pierce in me. you I ask

Ya, it is not necessary to Ruin

in me

of Minute of children`s dreams.

is So small

my day.

I I want good

All!

Even of subjects,

Who aims in me