Month: April 2017

  • ‘”From Nowhere with Love…” (J. Brodsky) or Happy 20-th Birthday, Gleb!

    On the 24-th of April of 1997 you were born, Gleb! Then I was travelling in and around New Yourk. Here is my old picture, look at it:

    Upon having seen this photograph you have written on the back side: ” First you-now I have been to New York”.

    That is, I consider, what is called the continuity between the generations. Only as one can see, the Twin Towers were still there. You did not see them now. So, life changes.

    Because you’ve experienced so much in your worldly travels as a young boy, it has prepared you for the experiences that are part of your life now as a young adult.

    Your eyes are open, you see the world in a totally different light. It helps you as it helped me at my time to understand the dynamics and personality of everyday life of this world-class centre metropolis of the unforgettable, indefatigable city of New York who never sleeps.

    Creativity is part of New York as you’re a creative person constantly seeking for new ideas and approaches that will enable you to accomplish your dreams as if putting the tiny mozaik pieces together that makeup the parts of you.

    As Joseph Brodsky, your fellow citizen, poet of the different generation connected by your and his birth city of Saint Рetersburg, Russia, said in his poem:

    “From nowhere with love, on the -eenth of Marchember,

    dear respectful my darling, doesn’t matter

    even who, for the face, speaking frankly,

    is impossible to remember, not yours, and

    no-one’s best friend, sends his regards being on one

    of the five continents, related to cow-boys;

    I loved you more than angels and even Himself

    and am further from you now than from them both;

    late at night, in the sleeping valley, in its very pit,

    twisting at night on the blank bed-sheet–

    as not mentioned below at least,–with a throb

    I whip up the pillow by moaning “you”

    from beyond the seas, its shores connecting

    in the dark, with my body your body through

    all it’s features, as a crazy mirror, reflecting.”

    From nowhere (from afar) with love to you, Gleb, we’re sending our best congratulations on your 20-th Birthday and our heart-felt wishes, knowing as you set out to accomplish your goals, which your life becomes full by the creativity that is always within you. You will succeed. Never give up!

    Yours, Grandma, Grandpa and your beloved Mom.

    Enjoy:

     

  • Acclaimed Russian Poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko Dies in Tulsa (State Oklahoma), USA. We Always Remember you…

    April 1, 2017 in the city of Tulsa (State Oklahoma, USA) died poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko. In spite of his heavy health condition, he kept on working in the hospital on the final chapter of his latest book. According to poet’s close friend, honoured consul of Belarus in America, the Head of the fund “Spiritual Diplomacy”, Michael Morgulis, “novel is not autobiographic although,it contains many personal reminiscences of Yevtushenko, feelings, emotions, documentary events from the life.” TASS remembers the most famous poems which are known to everybody.

    “Snow flakes are falling

       sliding round and round…

       I would keep living… always…

       but I probably can’t.

      

       Human souls fade dissolving

       and leaving no trace,

       like snowflakes they’re going

       from earth into space.

      

       Snow flakes are falling…

       Some day I shall go…

       About death I’m not worrying

       I’m mortal, I know.

      

       I do not believe in

       any miracles, no,

       and I’ll never be living,

       unlike snow, anymore.

      

       A sinner, I’m thinking

       who on earth I have been,

       what is most I’ve been keen on,

       in this world I live in.

      

       It’s Russia that I love so

       with my backbone, my blood,

       its rivers when iced, or

       when lively they flood.

      

       its spirit of houses,

       its spirit of pines,

       its Pushkin and Razin,

       its old men, so kind.

      

       And in my hours of worry

       I didn’t take it too bad.

       I may’ve lived in a flurry,

       I’ve lived for my land.

      

       Deep in heart, feeling anxious,

       I hope against hope

       that I did help my Russia

       to the extent I could cope.

      

       It may once and for ever

       forget me, with ease,

       but I wish it would never

       ever cease to exist.

      

       Snowflakes are falling,

       as they do at all times,

       times of Pushkin and Razin

       and the time that yet comes.

      

       Sliding like crystal beads,

       light and bright as can be,

       flakes wipe out the footprints

       left by others and me.

      

       I do not believe in.

       immortality… well…

       If Russia keeps living

       I’ll keep living as well.” (1965)

    translated by Alec Vagapov