Rus Articles Journal

Whether you love Feodosiya as I love it? (Short history of the city)


in the south there is a wonderful country.

Tam of the mountain up aspire,

There the sun and the woods. Well, paradise!

I nothing to laugh.

There the bay is and there is a gulf.

washes the sea breg sandy There,

I the sun joyfully plays pranks,

Caressing fields. There and rain desired.

Then long ago, till Christ`s Christmas,

loaded vessels Went to a way from Miletus

Kind, Goods to sell

all over the world.

But having got lost in the Black Sea, Having passed

appear thunder-storms and appear a storm,

did not fall to Poseidon,

did not obey will of waves.

And at last it is Earth!

do not trust seamen.

“About gift of gods“ - shouts one.

End of a difficult way!

And as a sign of rescue they Here the city based


in honor of the termination of a way

gave the name to It.

The II

Feodosiya our nice!

the Small river Baybuga flows smooth.

of the Seagull shout pierced soul thin,

I merged words in a song ringing!

All the time goes, it has the course.

A history after it goes.

Came here to scurry about Romans of steel. Now Kaffoyu this city to call


Fortress was put. Still costs.

But went to centuries their Roman was.

As came the Ottoman - polkovod Pasha,

I brought Islam - prosper soul!

Quiet our town became the main port.

A the mosque in there distance is visible as a mirage.

Minarets up to the sun rose.

Small, but Istanbul, lives life!


I the osemnadtsaty century came then.

of Army Russians came on breg.

Having visited this finest hail,

the Empress of Russia left on a decline.

Life very quiet,

Ayvazovsky in pictures sung began to flow here.

I remained the maiden worthy,

Feodosiya which is modestly dressed.

But there passed only three decades.

As tranquility was gone also a trace.

Time heavy came to this region,

great inflicted the Evil.

She transferred difficulties, a grief,

Two wars, a heavy sea.

was not inclined to the enemy, to the adversary,

having Fully mourned loss.

The IV

Time of a wound treated, and the sea

Carried away concern and a grief.

Were dismissed gardens and avenues,

Squares and parks in the flowers having covered.

Sanatoria rose on a brega.

Again seagulls luxuriate in luxury. Touching

I smother as a thin string,

Shouted a dolphin, over there, under water:

“Feodosiya - god this!

to me native, my long-awaited!

Ya I love you as the baby mother!

Why I cannot embrace you?“