Rus Articles Journal

Vladimir Vysotsky. Why geniuses leave so early?

on January 25, 1938, 70 years ago, in Moscow, in a family of the signal officer Semyon Vysotsky and his wife Nina Maksimovna, translator from German, the boy who was named in honor of the grandfather on the father Vladimir was born. Usual family, usual cares. But the black trouble - those 190 fascist divisions which at dawn tore off on June 22 peaceful life already was on the threshold, having untwisted bloody blades of death.

The father left on the front one of the first. The enemy stood at walls of Moscow, many residents of the capital were evacuated. Including Nina Maksimovna with the son. They were defined in a small village near Orenburg. Took burning

B 1943 Vysotsky returned to Moscow, on 1 - yu Meshchanskaya Street. In the fall of 1945 Volodya went to the first class. And in 1946 for the son there arrived Semyon Vladimirovich. Why only for the son? The matter is that it already had by then a new wife - Evgenia Stepanovna. Why Nina Maksimovna resignedly conceded the son? She understood that with the father it will be easier for it to survive. Too war destroyed much

Volodya lived the Next three years with the father and the stepmother in the German garrison Ebersvald. When later for many years veterans wondered and often asked Vysotsky about that from where he so well knows war, Vladimir only shrugged shoulders. But imagine his life with the father in the foreign land. Yes, the father had a service, but out of it officers in the closed garrison gathered, rolled vodka and were let in memories of war. Not only about themselves spoke, but also remembered friends who as where battled. And the boy right there turned, greedy absorbing these stories.

In what there were sources of his subsequent hobby for alcohol? In genes? In life where it was learned to be understood not at once? No, they were covered in these German sit-round gathering, where black pain from losses anesthetized one glass of vodka, the second, third. And then the trouble was dissolved, receded tomorrow again to remind of itself. The foreign land not the aunt

If in usual life where - nibud in a midland of Russia, the guy from a plow will feel that he at it itches on heart, to it is easier to take in hand a braid - the Lithuanian and at dawn to go to a meadow. The hard physical activity distracts. And here, in Germany, the hard work is replaced by a generous table. And looking at this luxury, it is so difficult to be kept by

This hatred to others tables Vysotsky much later, in 1971, managed to state extremely simply:

It is not necessary to approach others tables

I to respond if call.

And further - return to Moscow, Bolshoy Karetny Lane which completed facet future genius. Seldom what guy will refuse to povypendrivatsya before the girl, especially, if is able to elicit wonderful sounds from a guitar. But at someone desire to sing a nightingale over time vanishes, having got to a cage of heavy life. And for someone it is the first step to future glory. By the way, and Vladimir played a piano very nedurstvenno, but fo - but in an entrance to girls you will not roll out!

I think that from about 750 poems of Vladimir Vysotsky everyone is occurred only by the most untwisted. But I want to provide the very first poem dated 1953 today. It will seem to someone naive, all - wrote it 15 - the summer poet. Time sometimes changes our estimates. But, as they say, the general and in Africa the general . So, the poem is called My oath also it is written in March.

It is surrounded with mourning of tapes,

Plunged into silence Moscow,

Is deep her grief about the leader,

Heart pain is squeezed by melancholy.

I go among a flow of people,

the Grief heart held down mine,

Ya I go to look quickly

At the leader expensive a forehead...

Terrible fire burns down my eyes,

I I do not trust black trouble,

Presses a breast unceasing groan,

Cries heart about the wise leader.

Mourning march spreads,

Groan violins and hearts groan, I swear to

Ya at a coffin not to forget

of Dear leader and the father.

I swear: I will keep in line

With a close-knit, strong and brotherly family, I Will bear a light banner with


That was handed by you to us, Stalin native.

In these it is mournful - unlucky days

I Will swear not to spare at a grave of your

young forces

For great my Fatherland.

A name Stalin will remain for ever,

will be flown by it over the earth,

the Name Stalin to us will shine

with the Eternal sun and an eternal star.

You feel a nerve? Bared, pulsing. The one that Vysotsky managed to carry by from 1953 in 1980?

But we will return to a question of questions: why geniuses leave so early? Why is not to them among us?

All solution not only in soul, but also in physiology. When the line is taken out from the heart, in this heart there is always a bloody wound. Also it drags on not at once, burns, presses a breast. Any memorable line is in addition increase of arterial pressure, and respectively, a work at full stretch of all internals. Someone can protect himself, and someone ignites as a torch, giving big fire.

Someone considers that days and nights of Vysotsky thoroughly cut Marina Vladi supposedly there is no her in Vladimir Semenovich`s destiny, he would live much longer. It all talk and no action. It was his last happiness, maybe not it what he deserved in our understanding, but these relations always arise out of human understanding. It as two absolutely unclear puzzles suddenly develop in a whole, stick to each other whether and meatless you will not pull out

we Could save it? Too it is unlikely. To me Nikita Vysotsky`s words told them for one popular magazine are always remembered: I was convinced on own example that big sees at distance. It is easy to speak: here bastards, Pushkina did not save from duel. Did not save. Though among his friends there was a mass of the most worthy people. When close you communicate, I assure you, it is possible to tell which - that offensive about very many

We could construct a gold cage of the hands that the genius did not break? Probably and, but then it would be not the genius, but the slave any more

Vysotsky died on July 25, 1980. Vladimir Semenovich gave the last concert some days before death in Kaliningrad. And not in situated near Moscow as mistakenly write some editions, and in the most western regional center. The city which very much was pleasant to it.

In Moscow the Olympic Games were well under way, and therefore reported about death of the genius too avariciously. But to the people came to say goodbye to Vladimir Semenovich, perhaps, at all not less, than in March, 1953 with Stalin. Perhaps, someone also swore at your grave not to spare young forces . But the second Vysotsky is not visible yet though someone compared to him Igor Talkov.

However I trust: without geniuses Earth cannot live, as without the Sun ]