«I DO NOT KNOW OTHER SUCH COUNTRY …»
… It was something fantastic. At first fields. Gold, boundless. Waves from a wind – as if silk: green, with pestrinami colours, zolotisto-straw … Coppices … Silvery veins of the rivers. Lakes … the Wide, big river, inflows – too twisting, as if veins on a female breast … Then woods. Too boundless, severe, century … the Tundra – is a lot of lakes, a grass – as a brown-green wool of the earth … Ocean … Majestic, huge. Live … Dazzling bluish, greenish ices … Cities, settlements, … but them it is a little village … Again wood, then hills … Mountains … Green and burnt out by the sun, and even at all mighty, rocky, covered with snow … again wide strip of the river … Again mountains … Steppes … absolutely azure surface of huge lake, a hill around … Again the rivers, woods and fields, cities, small villages, roads … Russia! The native land … Is all – my Native land …
… Autumn in Russia – silent grief. Colour of dying – at all bitterness, not tragedy, a modest holiday of colour, aroma of withering at last … the Pacified cleanliness of the first snow … the Shining bluish lace zaindevelyh branches, February dazzling «spring of light» …
Its woods cold molchane … Its fields boundless kolyhane … the Floods of its rivers similar to the seas … - has begun to sound suddenly. - Country by I like to skip in a cart, and a look slow piercing nights a shade …
… Silent, thoughtful Oksky creeks, staritsy with a carpet of white and yellow water-lilies, lakes, weeping willows on coast … Well "cranes" in villages, fine izbas, eyes-windows submissively looking at road, a gold evening dust, soft footfall and tired low of herd … («Goj you, Russia my native, huts – in copes of an image … not to see the end and edge – only a blue Yesenin sucks eyes …»! Sergey Aleksandrovich …)
The Ukrainian tidy fields, gold sunflowers, clean white huts … Nests of storks on roofs of houses in Zakarpate, toy green hills of Carpathians, the raging fast rivers … the Crimean dry, warm good fortune, the sapphire, emerald, turquoise waves, going measured, equal numbers … flowers on quays, water colour hills Kimmerii …
Damp, stuffy luxury of the Caucasian resorts, powerful mountains and the rough rivers sparkling snezhniki in shrill blue … («caucasus under me. One in height I stand …»). Celebratory, magnificent Dombai, the beauty the river Teberda in which vicinities I photographed rare butterflies apollonov, magnolias and palm trees Gagr and Sukhumi, mandarinovye gardens of Abkhazia and Adzharii, thoughtful architecture of old Tbilisi, pink structures of Yerevan, mighty lake Sevan, spirit of the great poet in old Gandzha («the person Is created not for pozhiranja meat and breads, no. It - a source of intellectual gifts …» – Bottoms Gjandzhevi), fantastic mountain lakes of Azerbaijan – the Gay-gel, the Maral-gel …
The Tadjik floods of scarlet poppies in April, intolerable muddy heat in the summer … Abstruse music, aroma of spices, melodious, lingering speech, shashlychnyj a smoke, bright clothes, mountains of fruit, vegetables, greens – the Tashkent market … (Avitsenna! A lobster Khayyam! JAvdat Iljasov …) Exciting smells of violently blossoming dogrose, a hawthorn, umbellate, feruly, a wild onion, a flock of large, easily planning butterflies-apollonov, a deafening twitter of birds – foothills Tjan-Shanja … Sultans white-pink eremurusa Olga, ruby fruits of a rhubarb and its magnificent crimson leaves, is mysterious-dark blue hand bells gentsiany, tsvetki onosmy, covered with silvery hairs, grey-haired greens astragala, a wormwood, the diverse kserofitov, an easy appearing lace fragrant donnika, celestial-blue tsvetki chicory - in mountains Pamiro-scarlet … Roundish, curly trees archi on slopes of mountains in vicinities of Alma-Ata, greyish, too curly sheep there and then, in flocks … Unforgettable, exciting aroma boundless polynnyh steppes of Kazakhstan …
Mosques and medrese Tashkent, hot hmar and condensed time in narrow small streets of Bukhara, blue and white glaze of walls and domes of Samarkand, a mysterious City dead - Shahs-zinda (it is translated is paradoxical: «the Live tsar»), - where you go as if among crowd of shades, and it is not terrible absolutely, on the contrary – you feel a great indissoluble link of times and the people, all people on a planet, irrespective of the period of a life, geography, age, creed … Great, till now the General Brotherhood not realised by us …
I saw, saw all it, I felt, I - was! Not in a dream, in reality, actually … Business trips, expeditions, travel …
Dense, impassable, sharply and prjano smelling solodkoj, tugai – turanga, loh, grebenshchik-tamariks, a cane … - on coast of the river of Syr-Darya … Boundless wavy sand, bushes jantaka – the camel prickle, - parnolistnika, soljanki, a wormwood, a saxaul, legkokrylye, small, but surprisingly beautiful butterflies of colour of an ivory with bright round stains, with the poetical scientific name in Latin – gipermnestra Gelios … Southern Kazakhstan.
The fallen asleep brown shaft of high barkhans – «Red sand», Kyzylkumy, - the mad, dizzy heat, mutno-sleepy Mirages flickering on horizon …
Great, misticheski not clear, not learnt, diverse Altai – «Gold mountains», - violent, free Katun in ridge stone coast, blue CHemal among low mountains – foamy rifts and is thoughtful-silent creeks … Dense kedrachi, «birch sittsy» (as in Average Russia), "snezhniki", top of the White whale, as if covered with a white napkin, mysterious bluish-grey Teletsky lake …
– as if cultural plantations of irises, zharkov, tigrovyh lilies – with huge blue-green butterflies planning over them – mahaonami Maaka, - which it is easy to confuse blue hills of Primorski Krai, blossoming meadows with birds …
"Inoplanetnaja" the Valley of Geysers on Kamchatka – steam, noise, a sulphur smell … the Classical, accurate silhouette of the Kljuchevsky hill … Sensation of End of the earth.
Prehistoric very tall grasses – impassable jungle – on Sakhalin and islands of the Kuril ridge … Romantic, as if sleepy, landscapes of Chukotka …
The autumn in Kareliya when it is impossible to understand, why, what for, whence appears suddenly so much the diverse bright paints: kanareechno-yellow, is bright-crimson, bright-red, purple, purely violet … - grasses, stones, multi-coloured mosses and lichens, the grey and brown roots which are sticking out from the earth, as if veins, clumsy bushes and curve trees on coast of absolutely dark blue lakes …
Sandy dunes and aristokraticheski harmonous, is strict-soft, is refined-constrained, however lusciously-fragrant pines and sandy dunes on coast of the cool sea; is fantastic-toy old cities of Baltic …
Travel, expeditions, business trips …
Huge, heavy, powerful is crimson-bloody clouds in October over Central Russian plain … «Flights of clouds», loosely flying in boundless open space, with flashing then, there proverifications of lightnings in July-August, violet-red fantastic "lakes" of blossoming ivan-tea …
And as if the chorus of voices – solemn and joyful, sad, sad, enthusiastic has begun to sound …
… From Moscow to most to suburbs, from southern mountains to northern seas …
… You and poor, you and plentiful, you and mighty, you and powerless …
… As if I spring booming ranju have galloped on a pink game …
… I Like its snow, in the presence of the moon …
… I Like fatherland, but strannoju love …
I saw all it, saw! … has travelled so much … By trains, electric trains, cars, on a road bicycle … By planes so much time … Moscow suburbs, the Average strip, Ukraine, Crimea, Carpathians, Zakarpate … caucasus – Tuapse, Sochi, Sukhumi, Hobi, Kabuletti … Ossetia, Kabardino-Balkariya, the Chechen Republic … Tbilisi, Baku … Central Asia – Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan … Sayan mountains, Tuva … Great Yenisei … the Regal river Lena – Yakutsk … nerjungri … the Far East, Primorski Krai – the Find, Vladivostok, Ussuriisk, lake Khanka, the Stone-fisher … Khabarovsk, the Cupid-father … I on a bicycle – a road bicycle flied! – naputeshestvoval thousand kilometres … And together with the friend, and more than one, one-odineshenek, without tent, stopping at local residents … Pribaikalye, ridge Hamar-Daban, Ulan-Ude, great blue perfect lake-sea Baikal … Ust-Barguzin, Listvjanka, Angarsk … Both Baltic, and Kareliya, both Siberia, and Urals Mountains …
The greatest country of the world! The great people … What history! And culture? Writers … «Russian literature – the most human literature of the world» … And musicians? Artists … Philosophers … Scientists … All world admired … the Greatest, the richest and boundless … the Train from Moscow to Vladivostok went once the whole 10 days, now, uskorenno, 7 … And riches? Oil, gas, coal, gold, diamonds, ore … All is! «Riches of the country will grow Siberia …» And the nature! The great traveller the Groom-grzhimajlo, travelled the half-world, has told: «the Dream of all my life was carried out: I stand on the bank of Irtysh …»
What Appalachian mountains? What Andes? What Great Lakes? At us is … At us was – all! Much that it was possible to take from Americans, correctly. As well as at Europeans. But took – the worst! «Beat the first!» «You stand so much, how much you stand – in transfer into dollars …» the Person to the person – a wolf!
To me are not necessary "porshe", "bumery" and all this peel of luxury by destruction of the Native land. It would be disgusting to me to play the little fool and to have a shower bath "Widow Kliko" on Azure coast of France … What for to me locks in "London-hailstones" and dorogushchie yachts and planes, if to live in locks painfully boringly, and yachts and planes it is necessary to protect more than itself! If step to make it is impossible without a protection escort … And if I know, that my country perishes and degenerates – because of me and without me! – that people live in misery, that all created turns by centuries to ashes! If all people – enemies, and "grandmas" who at me not merjano, belong generally not to me … Oppositely …
During any concentrated, heated instant I suddenly HAVE felt all it … the Great, great Native land … I since the childhood of veins with this thought … I dreamt of travel, and I travelled … I and in a court yard saw the presents, wild, occupied by various "inhabitants", exotic "jungle" what to speak about wood glades, bogs, lakes and the rivers, meadows … And then – distant travel … Mountains, the seas … the Huge world full of miracles …
Nobody could win us – neither Mongols, nor Frenchmen, neither Poles, nor Swedes, neither Turks, nor Japanese, Germans … Anybody! And Space?! And here we were – the first! And it is so much nationalities … But we were friends, actually in friendship – I went much whom only met, but never – never, never! – did not feel any national animosities from anybody. I spent the night in houses of local residents – in Average Russia, in Ukraine and in Belarus, in Primorski Krai and Transbaikalia, on caucasus and in Baltic, in Central Asia and in Tuva, in Zakarpate, in Siberia, - I went by a bicycle one on deserted and noisy roads … I on business trips from different newspapers where only have visited! Never, never … All depended only on me – only from me: if I behaved humanly, did not swagger silly, did not pose as an ambitious stuffed animal «from the centre», did not make up, was not brought, not zalupalsja, - if I RESPECTED others respected also me. Certainly, there could be everyone, I am not so naive nevertheless. But after all was not!
We were friends, we hated much in the politician of our Soviet government, we hardly took out stupid officials, party lie, false slogans, ubiquitous KGB … But, despite of everything, many of us – BELIEVED! With pleasure studied, engaged in self-education, went to "sections" and "mugs", aspired to knowledge, studied languages, took a great interest in sciences, dreamt of travel, visited to each other, spoke about philosophy, a science, arts, went to museums, films at cinemas looked, standing turns, argued on world problems, read newspapers, magazines, books, discussed them, passed each other, sang normal songs with reasonable human words … Where it is all?
What's happened? How has occurred, what of us have deprived of the great Native land, have torn apart it on a part, have chopped off pieces, have befouled, have cut down, have dried up … Who it has made? Us have divided, friends have transformed into contenders and enemies, compatriots have made foreigners … the Glaucous infection as the mould, has poisoned the country. Not the beauty of trees, colours, the seas, the sky, not smiles and tenderness of women, and – figures and faces of the American presidents on rectangular greenish pieces of paper became a criterion of beauty and the higher expression of Dream. Beauty it is necessary to learn to see. To win love, it is necessary to be worthy it. Both that, and another demands efforts, boldness, responsibility. And greenish pieces of paper can be stolen, and the more meanly, is more free from «the moral law» (Immanuil the Edging), the it is easier. Money it is good, but when they a work equivalent, instead of the abstract idol reigning minds, hearts, souls.
Itself have rejected for centuries … Movement on the country became for simple, normal people almost impossible because of wild, unjustified dearness, usual people can forget about planes in general - and it in 21st century! To send the letter – it is expensive, to call by phone – expensively, on a visit to descend with a gift very much even it is unprofitable … On TV – dur and the lie … Criminality has grown, drunkenness has reached the terrifying sizes, the narcotism became national disaster, homeless children in the country - millions … In the richest on power resources to the country of the world people merznut in the dilapidated houses, starve, drag beggarly existence – while some percent of the population of the country have true lost mind and real prestavlenie about a life from the inconceivable material riches which owners became contrary to logic and common sense. Who they? Scientists, musicians, writers, artists, heroes of work, saviours of the Native land? No! The people who have come up from a non-existence thanks to usages, created in the country those who has no concept about our country and its culture, about a human life in general who has created RELIGION of MONEY, definitively having transformed the population of the great country in idolaters!
And after all war was not – in war my Native land, my compatriots, WON! Anybody, any EXTERNAL enemy could not ruin the country, could not even cut off a piece, could not humiliate, plunder.
And spontaneous – natural – disasters were not … Neither earthquakes huge, nor flooding, fires universal … Unless … Unless «ruin in brains» as the professor Preobrazhenskiy in «the Dog heart» Bulgakov has told once.
And it is fine if has passed, well, for example, year-two … did not know, were mistaken, have hurried … Have corrected … But 14 years minulo! The whole generation! But ANYTHING IN ESSENCE DOES NOT VARY … All it is continued in the same spirit, and people "above" the SAME. And the IDOL - all the same.
I remember, how all of us, inhabitants of great, huge this country, WAITED. Many – I think, that very many, – did not doubt, that all at us will be – it will be obligatory! Such huge, such rich, such great country, with such past … Yes, of course, tests was not to consider, yes, millions and millions were lost. Search, great search, thought at first … Nikolay Ostrovsky, Arcady Gaydar, Anton Makarenko, Ivan Michurin, Ivan Pavlov, Nikolay Vavilov, Alexander Chizhevsky, Vladimir Majakovsky, Alexander Blok … So much scientists, writers, artists, composers, musicians, poets believed in Revolution! The half-world followed Soviet Union … But not Lenin and not Stalin tormented on consequences and in concentration camps, not they shot in thousand, hundreds thousand compatriots. It was done by compatriots. By order of, yes, but–. In the same way, as NOW we allow to occur to that occurs. Still we not very support the best daughters and sons if … If there is no on that a will of the HEADS. Here it, the main trouble our eternal: «You the chief – I the fool». And all fools because over everyone we have a CHIEF!
What for DELUSION, in the end of the ends? And why we SUFFER?
The god likes Russia. Otherwise would not award with such territory and such riches. And whether here we like the Native land actually? Whether we APPRECIATE?