“Oh Muse of Mourning, the Most Beautiful of Muses, Oh, Thee, Crazy Nightmare of White Nights!” (Marina Tsvetaeva, June 19, 1916, dedicated to Anna Akhmatova)

We are having as a guest to-day a young poetess Karina Verigina,13, from Saint Petersburg, Russia.Her long term childhood friend Liza Khodarinova is interviewing her. To the left is the photo of Karina.

Liza: Say me, please, my friend, where is your fondness for poetry from?

Karina: My Grandma Valentina Ivanovna, who herself loves to write poems and draw paintings. I spent most of my free time with her.

Liza: When did you write the first rhyme in your life?

Karina: When I was 5, here it is:

“Karina is brushing her little teeth,

Just for a few minutes, look at them:

They are clean and shiny,

As well as yours and mine.”

Liza: Who is your favorite poet or poetess?

Karina: Pushkin, Rubalskaya, Tsvetaeva.

Liza: Whom do you like the best of all?

Karina: Tsvetaeva.

Liza: What inspires you for poetry?

Karina: Books, music, when I am in bad mood.

Liza: Do your verses help or disturb you in life?

Karina: It depends. Sometimes they help, at times they interfere with the school tasks.

Liza: What is your mother’s attitude to your verses?

Karina: My Mom encourages me a lot, considering my creativity helps to develop speech skills, world outlook, imagination.

Liza: What poem of yours do you like best?

Karina: “Death”.

Liza: Can we publish a little part of it?

Karina: Yes, sure.

Here it is:

Death.

Calm.

Sleep.

Love it gone forever.

Ringing in silence of this moan,

Thy dying groan,

Silence…” (Google translation from Russian)

Karina Verigina, June 3, 2010, St. Petersburg.

Liza: Thanks for interview, Karya. We wish you the best on your creative roads in life and nice summer in St. Petersburg , in Greece and Tver!

This music for you, Karina, and verses by Marina Tsvetaeva:                                 Music: Nocturne by Chopin

“Oh Muse of Mourning, the Most Beautiful of Muses,

Oh, Thee, crazy nightmare of white nights!

You’re sending the black storms as arrows,

On suffering Russia and her remote sides…”