Rus Articles Journal

Nika Turbina so who I am?

As are sick, help!

In eyes - trouble!

But years - spider lines

Will thaw without trace.

the Hand you will not lean -

Smothering it is empty.

wanders About wolf


my star …

on May 11, 2002 Nika Turbina, the girl - the poetess, the child prodigy whose verses were executed by grief, tragic element, absolutely serious attitude, broke, having been thrown out from the fifth floor of the house in which lived...

I - a wormwood - a grass,

Bitterness on lips,

Bitterness in words,

Ya - a wormwood - a grass.

And over the steppe groan.

Wind is surrounded with

the small stalk Is thin,

Is broken it …

Pain gave rise by

the Bitter tear.

To the earth will fall -

Ya - a wormwood - a grass … Nick Turbin`s

- the girl from Yalta which composed verses, without having managed to master the diploma yet. Since the early childhood she suffered from a sharp form of bronchial asthma, with asthma attacks, sleeplessness, nightmares. Inexplicably it began to rhyme words, lines, to compose verses. This occupation gradually seized it, became both an illness, and passion, rescue, pleasure of life. She was 4 years old. She was not able to write, asked mother to write down and when she was 9 years old, her first collection of verses “Draft copy“ was published. As wrote newspapers, “… it were the genius`s verses“.

My verses -

Stones uphill are heavy. I Will carry

them to the rock,

To an emphasis.

I Will fall face down in a grass

of Tears will not be enough,

I Will break off the stanza -

the Verse will begin to cry.

Pain will crash into a palm

the Nettle.

Will turn bitterness of day

All into words …

O to it were written by newspapers, showed on television, thousands of admirers delightfully listened to it in the Soviet Union, Italy, the United States. In Venice it was awarded with a prestigious award in the field of arts “Golden lion“, having become the second Russian poetess after Anna Akhmatova who received this award.

Who I am? Eyes with whose I watch

at the world?

of Friends? Family? Fly into a rage? Trees? Birds?

Lips with whose I catch

dew From the fallen leaf on a pavement?

Hands with whose I embrace the world,

Which is so helpless, fragile? the voice I lose

Ya in voices

of the Woods, fields, rains, blizzards, nights …

So who am I???

B than me to look for itself?

to Answer as all voices of the nature?

But suddenly mysterious talent a miracle - the child began to run low. She wrote verses till 12 years, and gradually the triumph was succeeded by troubles: Nika had no education, work, she began to drink, cut veins, to forget own verses, to try to commit suicide …

Nika Turbina`s Phenomenon, experts of many countries of the world tried to understand her riddle and paradox. Outstanding psychologists, doctors, psychics, poets tried to solve Nika`s phenomenon, the child blessed with the improbable gift of emotional perception, suffering, flour. It was called “emotional explosion, brilliant talent, the newcomer from Space, poetic Mozart“. Considered that “the gift which came to Nika is not a whim as some consider, and some form of protection of the child for fear of death, pain, sleeplessness, nightmares: such protection is sent, maybe, by the Universe, or … God - to whom somehow to imagine“.

As differently it is possible to understand verses which she wrote in eight years:

Nothing escapes punishment,

a fragile, rigid sound -

lie is dangerous by an echo,

thirst to the money,

fast paces fraught with success.

escapes Nothing punishment.

the forgotten friend with whom it is inconvenient,

the baby an ant,

your Sole crushed mildly.

Such is a vicious circle.

escapes Nothing punishment. But even if descends -

Nothing not for nothing.

I of people itself imperceptibly goes crazy …

also Nika went crazy. And, maybe, on the contrary, did not want to descend how all of us? Anyway, in the warm May afternoon, in Moscow area, Nika who above all was afraid of loneliness went to the final journey absolutely one.

That read the burial service over Nika, Alyona Galich, her favourite teacher, wrote down in posthumous papers that it not suicide. In the column about a cause of death put a crossed out section. Its ashes were buried on the Vagankovo Cemetery … by

Among us, normal, there are people who to us seem abnormal. Frequent it is alcoholics, addicts, suicides. The feeling of never-ending death tragic element proceeds from their each movement, each look, each breath. They speak not that it is necessary, and what is. They do not that from them wait, and the fact that they consider it necessary. They are not able to lie, play the hypocrite, pretend to be, to earn money, to be practical and useful. And we, normal, often feeling the lameness and insolvency near these blissful, we do everything that they left us quicker.

So also Nika left. Could not live in this new world mammons, freedoms, frenzy. And nothing remained. Only its verses which, also, seemingly, are not necessary to us.

As often

Ya I try to catch sidelong glances.

I caustic words,

As arrows

Pierce in me. you I ask

Ya, it is not necessary to Ruin

in me

of Minute of children`s dreams.

is So small

my day.

I I want good


Even of subjects,

Who aims in me …