Rus Articles Journal

In total like everything...

Everything like everything on the uniform hidden sense

Deception are deception. The lie, by definition, can humiliate the person only. A mistake the price in life.

the Best minds of mankind tried to lift the veil hiding a life essence. There is enough - it was quickly noticed that behind all events there is eternal truth. Complexity of a question was that as it seemed this truth darkness.

Billions of people lived on the earth, worked, reflected, created. An eternal question - in what an events essence? - concerned everyone. Any living being cannot pass by this question. People of different professions, educations opened this or that side of an original essence of things. These particles of knowledge were handed down. Everything was simply and clear. It was not necessary to learn anything. The truth was remembered a meeting.

Generation was replaced by generation. Work and creativity from year to year ideas were checked by life, a layer behind a layer baring a core of concepts, thoughts, ideas.

we got What from our ancestors? Only what passed test time.

How many efforts are required to the person to remember what he internally does not agree with. The result is deplorable and obvious. Already in half a year nothing can be remembered. Attempts to force itself to remember, cause to recover senseless, useless knowledge spiritual fight with themselves, and you, dear reader, in the life noticed: the more efforts, the decision and the farther from an objective is more impossible. Why we remember fairy tales?

The truth does not struggle with truth!

Each of us - a small splinter of the great concept Mankind And NOTHING human is alien to us, especially, if it is true.

Truly, truly I speak to you...

Myths, fairy tales, legends, parables, models. What it as not spiritual heritage of our ancestors? Having lived life in all its variety, to us, to descendants, transferred spiritual ancestors. Ideas soar in air, are multiplied, specified, understood. And at this or that moment of development of humanity there are persons who pass through the heart these particles of knowledge and spiritual experience as if through a sieve, rejecting a peel, separating grains from a ryegrass, give rise to pure idea. They - a voice of all mankind. The result of their creativity and internal experiences gets a response around the world. So there were concepts of the internal and external worlds.

the Inner world is a personality, identity. The outside world - all this that surrounds us. How to transfer internal experiences? How to tell mankind about own sensual experience? How to reveal spiritual ancestors?

Set of sources, set of books, huge flow of information. One sank into oblivion, others worried a human century, having received the name classics . In any profession there are classics.

Poetry is close to heart of each person because means of expression of thoughts and feelings is the syllable available to everyone. Having gone deep into reflections, we open for ourselves depths of human mentality, our mentality. The poet will see off us through labyrinths of own experiences, answers us darkness of the arising questions or that he most often, warns, warns, prepares for variety of life.

That? How? What for? Why? For the inquisitive reader similar questions will help to open inexhaustible sources of knowledge where he least of all expects them.

of Zri in a root!

Will - bondage we study ourselves. We look for the hidden springs of our acts, thoughts, experiences.

Loneliness and uselessness.

Different sides of the same coin. Any genius is lonely in the inner world, and at all the desire it cannot let us in the soul. As to heart to state


to Another how to understand you?

And the loneliness in society, in the outside world is inevitable. The seeming uselessness, an illusory problem of communication. You cannot just be understood even at all desire. But you cannot be silent and begin to look for words, images, rhymes because you know, it is necessary for everyone.

Grows white a sail lonely

In sea fog blue...

The huge sea of human destinies expects everyone been born on the earth. The infinite sea of love in which we swim from the birth, we get used to it, we take for granted and therefore we do not appreciate.

By the most blue sea...

Surprising unanimity of geniuses.

Dedication - an individual way. And any, let in this swimming, with surprise finds huge open spaces of the soul, versatility of human mentality. Is surprised to beauty and greatness of Divine Love. And this really boundless blue sea.

But you only sailed from the coast, still it is not known, is not defined, you did not understand yourself - everything is covered with fog. The spiritual impulse is also that sail. Lonely, as conversation with. The sail - a symbol of purity of conscience grows white. What your thoughts why you were let in swimming what you look for and you expect? Knowledge of for, for the solution of the internal problems - guarantee of purity of soul.

What is looked for by it in the far-away country?

What it threw in the native land?.

Strange, as a rule, we look for not where lost. Travel create only visibility of active searches. The person deceives himself. Nevertheless, it is the strong person. He was tired, he was exhausted, rebelled, lifted mutiny.

Play waves - wind whistles,

I a mast bends and creaks...

And the traveler already understood that he went not that road. But he at least tried. And for himself already understood that

Alas, it happiness does not look for

I not from happiness runs!

Only the love rescues from loneliness, you not one - warm vigilance near you, passing time and space. You love and is loved, not simply necessary, you - are necessary! there is no

On light of happiness

Memory. Memory haunts us. We remember the childhood where we were loved, we loved. Without love there is no rest. As it was neatly noticed: life without love - the Hard times era.

A pass years - all the best years


A we with you together

Assume to live...

I lo and behold, we will just die.

Who did not love, that did not live. Everything is given to the person.

Under it a stream is lighter than an azure,

Over it a sun beam gold...

The way of love is not limited. Any news, any, earlier novel, feelings - a storm! As if the veil was broken from eyes. As I before it did not understand how I did not appreciate and did not protect! And we bathe, enjoy in aura, new to us, and quickly we get used. There pass years, everything is forgotten, nothing new, the boredom and apathy seize you.

But nothing in a past is sorry for me...

I am honest before by itself, my conscience before people is true. Was tired...

I is boring, and is sad, and there is nobody hand to offer

a minute of sincere adversity...

And it will pass...

Ya became more avaricious in desires now...

Rest heart asks. There are a rest and will.

Long ago, the tired slave, I planned escape

In monastery distant works and pure not g

In contemplation, alone with myself I will give the account to the soul what is lived that understood that is made. Everyone bears the cross, everyone creates the destiny. You speak: Eternally it is impossible to love! What it led to? whether you will glance

B of? - there is no past also a trace:

I pleasure, and torments, and everything is insignificant there...

Do not swear. It put! The spirit is wanderer`s! The heart touched by a chill... I do not feel sorry for

, I do not call, I do not pay


Be you in a century blessed,

That came protsvest and to die.

And life not such empty and silly joke. In it there is an essence, in it there is a sense. Not to everyone it is allowed to learn it fully. She demands rebellious activity, she demands the deepest contemplation, reflection. All of us are tarred with the same brush. Only at rest we can find force and will. To stop and reflect.

It is time, my friend, is time!