Rus Articles Journal



the Father, I knew you as far as? the Answer I do not represent


I of my days of a piece of chalk of a fasolk:

Soup - from - flowing on moustaches.

In multiroom We lived in a communal flat the house

- it is big.

is Looked for by me data in the first volume

of Destiny - it from far away.

Once there lived the singer

I well-known was. to it the father to sing

K went to study - the opera it attracted


A vein at that singer mother -

B what is not remembered by me relationship.

met the father Here. Here hole

of my Neznanya.

In Moscow

Then continuous communal flats …

the Father the singer did not become, alas.

Was a physicist, worked brightly,

I knew all small streets of Moscow.

And often we wandered with the father

Cranked - are good.

I on asphalt was conducted by me a stick,

I rejoiced with all the heart.

And all country the father visited,

I a scribe fair was.

I early died. How it disappeared?

Ya late felt belief.

And the father in fifty with few

Died - was to me then

So a little - nineteen.


my father never was.

Lay in a coffin, the person is so strict.

to me nineteen. The father is old -

Then seemed. And the road my

at the beginning. Generally - start.

As lived a little - I understand

Today - the father! How many with it We did not finish speaking

I know,

As I became gray-haired.

It the physicist was - and he is a lyric poet,

It is a traveler, the athlete.

A I am a poet underground, the mystic.

A the father trusted or not?

As much with the father spoke, I began to read

of Times early.

About belief never. But were

Soviet - what here to tell?

The father

So stimulated my all interests always!

of the Coin, brand. Even I will remember cash desks

of Theatres sometimes.

On “beeches“ with the father went.

Mysterious in the twilight

Flickered books. Tu was bought.

On skis rushed on winter.

Father! You are living, I feel!

of Times in snowfall I you,

Saw - was … I understand -

So jokes sharp destiny.

I followed the person - was thought by

For the father: the chance is given to finish speaking

to me - as if favor,

I farther in a different way to live.

But there was no such chance.

Went snow. Naskol I knew the father? the Question I stick

In empty gray space

endlessly …


We lived in the huge apartment house made of communal flats; in the house with creaking floors and ceilings so high that to me, the child, they seemed heaven in a miniature … The house was near the subway New suburban - it was necessary to dive into an underground passage and to pass a little to the left, and here he got up - as ancient fortress, yellow, long - only five-floor, but very high … Once in this apartment the vein Is opaque - the honored actress Bolshogo, the best Aida 30 - x years, nowadays absolutely forgotten; she registered at herself mother when that came to study at institute - arrived from Kaluga from where it was opaque a sort, but in what relationship mother consisted with it - I do not know … And at Opaque the father privately went to take singing lessons: here they also got acquainted … the Childhood of the father passed

in the close apartment, in a lodge in Hokhlovsky Lane; passed - partly in pereulochny, noisy whether boyish life with fights and soccer … Much I know

about the father? It was brilliant: the physicist, the traveler who visited all Union - the world attracted and how revealed, was all the same interesting by each nuance; the father - the owner of a professional baritone and several categories on different types of sport, the bibliophile and the philatelist - knowing everything on light as it seemed to me; the father who died in 52 years - me, then 19 - summer, it was thought: it is age …

Infinite walks with the father - on attractive, pereulochny, to such rich Moscow in nuances; infinite talk - about an essence, an essence in total about books, ideas … never about belief and God; I do not know that the father thought, felt in this plan.

Shots of memoirs: here the father teaches me to read, I writhed over “Black chicken“ of Pogorelsky and a small letter, it seems acquaintances, do not develop in words in any way, precisely resist - to me not to overcome knowledge in any way perhaps? The father is soft and patient, and is far, far to me to school.

Is walked with the father in Ekaterina`s nowadays - as was called then? - park, and smooth ducks dissect liquid glass of a pond, and long loaf is taken providently.

A here the father came back home, and gets a small notebook, and speaks conspiratorially: Look what - and pages of the book are shifted by brands, and the rainbow blossoms easily.

We moved then to ENEA, to the certain apartment; and I grew, being interested in much, but than I was fond is a father right there stimulated and directed interest. These campaigns on “beeches“ where the mysterious twilight lit up dostavayemy with the bibliopole with a rarity! Theatrical passions when tickets were got with an overpayment, and the physics and fabric of representation was discussed long then; the monetary and branded black markets with a variety of persons and objects …

As you in me the father who is not recognized by me? As we did not finish speaking

with you?.