Rus Articles Journal

Live it is full, misters!

… pot? So - pot …
City shabby and strong, thorough and cozy; the city of the prospering satiety and external churchism, the city of pans and frying pans, magnificent kitchens and distinct meanings.
On one of the squares is built a materiality monument, to another - satiety; they are similar - also full-heaps, with flat, bezvyrazitelny faces are powerful.
Is no time in the city the thought branched, there lived poets, philosophers and musicians, inhabitants listened to them and - grew thin, and complexion became earthy, and the indifference to things appeared. Then, having gathered and not having let on meeting of talkers, settled to give the power to a pot - about! it is huge, bokast, its hard walls sparkle and contents always cooks what can be eaten …
allocated to the Pot the palace, picked up staff (one Gentlemen of the Bedchamber five pieces that was not digested) and began to live happily under his sad full wisdom … Philosophers were welded - the correct decision! Approvingly dealers, &ndash hooted; and long-legged, lean rhymers and muzykantishka ran - do not profane more than our streets, do not poison our air.
In a pothouse abundance of amber happiness.
- As there our father?
- Newspapers write - everything well. Cooks.
- Well then on a mug.
Full paradise of dealers. To despair and thought - no.
of Children and school students drive to lay flowers at monuments of satiety and materiality. Pestret bouquets.
In newspapers write about a pot, about the schedule of its day, about gloss of its abrupt sides, still - about progress of trade and other pleasant things.
All fat daughters are safely attached in marriage - for big-bellied offsprings of worthy families - and unworthy there is no Eternity …
? Only gloss of coins, these remarkable kruglyashy is eternal. Soul life? We do not know it. Scales weigh bread, sausage, meat. Who weighed soul?
In a tavern: Give - the hostess, some roast with gravy and beer do not forget! How there our father - that?
- Everything is good. Cooks.
Live it is full, misters! Will bring nobody from desperate, splashes of the sun of the penetrated gofmaniana to split, shatter kind to you a pot, and to clean off white fat from your once amber brains.
Live it is full …

In an ancient bookcase, in a shadow of big volumes in the far, gentle childhood found a weighty box, and, having opened it, touched a variety of coins, uvidav a magnificent scattering. Immersing fingers in the poured weight, took that coin, another, considered them, admired drawing. There was an European trifle which is not representing numismatical - or financial - values, but of what value it was for the curious child! Examining the florid, slozhnostrukturirovanny coats of arms of the European countries, reading legends - as if entered streets of the cities whose ancient bends took away in the history - concerning, attracting, playing shades …
Then there was the Soviet club of numismatists where went with the father; on numerous tables coins lay - silver dimly gleamed, and it is red - yellow - something similar to dawn patches of light - poured copper …
Portraits - thin and exact, animal, allegorical pictures … a genista branch in hands of the goddess … the worlds flashed and died away - the world of history smoothly included the world of modern kommemorativ; and illustrious antiquity - whose droplets were seen by me in coins - suddenly came to life pinkish marble of children`s dream.
of the Face of people with which the father spoke receded before persons of coins; also it was remembered then - the general, fluent sketch - the passion owning numismatists, printed on faces; the passion, whose vector defines life.
A opened then the world of thalers - these numismatical masterpieces impregnated with history clots; the thalers which passed centuries to inform of the message: here behind it is noise of Thirty years` war, and behind that - the magnificent yard of the king more inclined to luxury and cookery, nezhl to public affairs. Each of similar coins as if is dressed by a hidden veil of touches, and, taking in a hand heavy kruglyash, feel the communication with myriads of lives, events, destinies … by

In enormous spaces of a Protestant cathedral - a cathedral, the essence aspiring to beskupolny height, to an ultraboundary not clear height - carries the sermon. The pastor is talkative - you will not take away. Vysverk of metaphors, painting verbal, richness of ottenochny characteristics - create the long intricate speech; modulations of a voice, quite on - actor`s emphasize what should be emphasized, and shade what should be shaded …
the Sermon is ended. Parishioners disperse.
One of prostets, with clever brown eyes, a wrinkled face, dryish, lived approaches the pastor, and, smiling, speaks: And you know, the father, despite all this God is.
the Pastor looks at it with astonishment.

In the CONE of the LAMP
- Poddat I was, know, - spoke to one another. - Not strongly, and so - moderately happiness. Well, you know my yard? Flourishes yes of a koldoba … And here the rain autumn passed, lamps flicker, asphalt shines a seal skin … Quite good everything generally. And suddenly under a lamp - a face of the old woman - pastozno - white, bloated, and cheeks - as two pieces of soap … Eyes are spiteful, swum away. And - feeling: here it is death … It became so terrible …
Another, dragging on a strong smoke, presented - in a lamp cone: white, indistinct, terrible. Something in soul breaks and flies in pro-wounds - deeper, than death …

the pond Flickered, flickered chyorno - zolotisto, beautifully, corners were tightened by a duckweed, the relief of coast is not equal, hilly, sand densely turned yellow at the coast … Came. Sat down where was otly where the earth in a dense pattern of a grass was included into black density of waters. Fished around, waited; and as it was delightful at first gentle, after a hard poklyovka, both the float dived, and the crucian - dense, cool - was in zigzag fashion bent in air before falling in a bucket, having splashed …
From a mirror is watched at me by the gray gray-haired man in the opinion of whom layers of heavy grief lay; looks, being perplexed - really it was once possible to exult from - for the caught crucian … the SOVIET COUNTRY HAPPINESS
Brochette pulls

, and dance of cabbage white butterflies over a hollyhock reminds zigzags of thoughts of the philosopher. The child reads the whole day in a hammock of “Three musketeers“, and the sword made of a branch of cherry stands near a column. the Grandmother calls
to drink milk, and, bought in the neighboring village, it flickers opalovo, and gingerbreads sweet, firm …
Water is given once a day, and it is necessary to manage to water all various kitchen garden, and hotbeds - huge as warehouses, give idea of Africa. Sites sometimes are separated from each other by a raspberry brake wall, and grasshoppers all right adjusted the violins.
Children with a bucket go on a pond, flickering is black, zolotisto - and it gives dense, cool crucians.
Neighbours will come in the evening to brochette; sitting at a board table, will drink moonshine from a dusty large bottle and to tell, tell …
the Soviet country happiness …