Stories, poems and pictures : April 2013

The moon - video

Yesterday I had dinner at about 10 o'clock at night and I looked at the window and the moon was almost right in my window.

For my Grandmother

1.

Мы женщины России

Красивые, родные

В далёком сорок первом

Сражались на фронтах.

В землянках и окопах,

С винтовками в болотах.

Под дробью пулемётов

Вытаскивали с боя

Раненных солдат.

Девчёнки - хохотушки,

Военные подружки,

Сестрички в медсанбате

Любого рассмешат.

Пусть взрывов мы боялись,

Вперёд смотреть старались.

С мужчинами на равных

Шагали по земле.

Летали мы по небу,

По вражескому следу.

Без отдыха стояли

У огненных печей.

Ну а в родных колхозах

Поля пахать впрягались,

Поля садить впрягались

Жалели лошадей.

Как письма с фронта ждали,

Влюблялись и мечтали,

Как пели и плясали

Для родненьких солдат.

Вернулись мы с победой,

Девчёнок нарожали.

Пусть будет только счастье

У внучек, дочерей.

Тальяночка (Russian song and video)

My grandmother Ira memories about Second World War - Part 2

...Then my mother (mama) came home from the farm. It was early than usual.

My mama asked me if I have heard about the war.

I said: "Papa said something".

I was not afraid at all. I think my mother too. We did not expect anything bad, may be because we did not really know what the war is. Actually I was thinking about making a dress from my mother's skirt.

Soon my brother came home, then my father, then my aunts.

My father turned on the radio. And we would never turn it off until the end of the war, until 1945.

We quietly listen that Nazi Germany have declared the war to Soviet Union. And it was an order to every man from 18 years old get ready immediately.

Hand made (this what we do) by me and J.- photos

My grandmother Ira memories about Second World War - Part 1

I am writing this for my very beautiful and very loving Grandmother Iraida Pavlovna Mouravleva.

My grandmother Ira (the short form of her name) is 85 years old and she lives in Russia.

She was a doctor for 55 years and now, for some time, my grandmother is writing memories

about her life. The young life in the small Soviet village, Second World War, post war time,

years in the Soviet Union and the life in our city now.

My grandmother only speaks Russian and for her I translate her memoirs in English.

I love you Mama Ira!

The memoirs are written from my grandmother’s name.

I was 13 years old when the war started. My brother Sasha (Aleksandr) was 17.

It was June 22, 1941.

The day was very sunny, me and my girlfriends went to the river in the morning, we were laughing, talking and making some small plans about what we will do after graduating from the school. I think we all wanted to be teachers and doctors.

On June 18^th was my birthday, and it was school summer holidays, we did have to work in our collective farm, because we were too young and the summer was all ours to enjoy.

We stayed on the river for almost entire day and closer to the evening we went home. My parents and brother (who was on summer holidays too) worked in the collective farm almost until the night and I had time to prepare the dinner.

On the way home I noticed my father talking to the neighbor, an old man. When I walked by them, my father looked at me and told quietly: “Ira, the wars started” and continue to talk the old man.

I did not really understand what my father meant.

I went home, washed dishes, pilled potatoes and cleaned up the room.

Then I noticed from the window that people were running from house to house and some women on the street were crying.

Our neighbor’s son, a twenty years old man, walked out of the house with a bag and his mother was trying to stop him. She was crying too: "No, no, no, my son, no! I don’t let you go". And she would not stop trying to hug her son.

Very soon almost everyone from our village was on the street.

To be continue...

Village keeper

One summer I used to work in a small village as a bank taller.

Most of the time I used to give salaries to the local people.

I meet a young man who I think liked me, because he would go to the bank every day just to say “Hello” to me.

Sunrise - beautiful pictures

Sunrise!

Painting by baby

Done by my son

Water lily

My favorite water lily

Cooking with Marina - photos

Sushi made by Marina (my sister)

Russian winter - photos

More Russian winter from our city!

The Forest Queen

Long time ago, when my grandmother Ira was young she loved to listen her grandmother endless stories.

And this story she loved the most.

One girl, Masha, was watching her little brother and one day the brother just ran away. Masha could not find him anywhere and soon she had no choice as to tell her parents.

Love story

“Cry, cry, my darling, it will be easy then, cry, cry, it will be easy then, cry, cry” – a very old wrinkly woman was trying to calm down a young woman.

The old woman was crying too. You could not even see the color of her eyes any more, just blocks of water.

The young one Anna had been crying nonstop for almost an hour. Her eyes turned puffy, nose big and red and her face was swollen.

Anna received a letter from the army that her husband Maxim was killed in a battle.

“No, no, no”, – Anna was repeating the same words again and again, over and over.

Russian poems and Russian stories : Russian Pictures

Russian poems and Russian stories : Russian Pictures: These pictures are from my small village in Russia. The river just 3 minutes from my house. And the flowers are from my mother's garden....

Russian poems and Russian stories : Russia in pictures

Russian poems and Russian stories : Russia in pictures: Just more Russian beautiful pictures!

Russian Pictures - beautiful pictures

These pictures are from my small village in Russia. The river just 3 minutes from my house. And the flowers are from my mother's garden.

Russia in pictures - beautiful pictures

Just more Russian beautiful pictures!

Там где не хватает желанья. Там где не хватает любви,

Там где не хватает желанья

Там где не хватает любви,

Все встречи и все расставания остались уже позади.

А прошлое так надоело,

Слова как осколки зеркал

Ты дверь открываешь несмело в новое никуда.

Потом будет все как обычно,

Молчание, слезы и ложь,

Укоры, надежда, укоры.

Что было уже не вернешь

Нельзя изменить все что было

Нельзя обижать невпопад

И ты далеко проводила

Того кого надо встречать...

Партизанка Катюша

Вчера дралась за куклы и игрушки,

Сегодня настоящий бой.

Красавица весёлая Катюша,

Девчёнкой в партизанский встала строй.

Родные ели защищают, родные травы берегут.

И лесом, полем закрывают,

И заблудиться не дают.

Катюша вспоминает лето,

За речкой первый раз пошли бои.

От взрывов днём не видно света,

А дым чернее вечной тьмы...

Катюша, дочка, пробраться надо к нашим,

И вывести из тех лесов.

Старик седой, в отряде старший,

На карту указал морщинистой рукой.

Иди вперёд, и ничего не бойся.

Мои внучки пойдут с тобой.

Поймает недруг, скажешь просто,

Ты к тете Галечке спешишь домой.

А Галька - то живёт за лесом,

Тебя она уж будет ждать...

Ах, Катя, Катя, совсем невеста,

Как жаль, ушли все парни воевать...

Всю ночь идёт по леу Катя,

Держа двух пацанят в руках.

Иди сюда, - холодный голос,

Развеял теплый серый мрак.

Куда ни глянь повсюду немцы

Запрятались в чужих лесах...

Один как крикнул громко:

Из леса нам дорогу,

Как выведешь, так будешь жить.

Идёт Катюша долго – долго,

Отряд боясь спешит за ней.

Через деревья слышит Катя,

Поёт, журчит лесная трель.

Она-то лес свой знает с детства,

Нет тут таких певцов.

А трель не умолкает,

Зовёт в болота, в глушь зовёт.

Девчёнка и пошла за песней,

Вдруг тишина и крик: «Ложись!»

И поняла тогда Катюша,

Войне уже прийдёт конец.

Солдаты наши, дорогие

А ну Катюшу обнимать.

Ах вы девчёнки молодые,

Вам смелости не занимать.

The War Love Story

In 1941 one young girl Anna from my grandmother's village signed up to be a nurse in Soviet Army. Anna was very brave, she believed she will help the victory and would return home after the war.

But the war was not what Anna expected. After two weeks of training she was a nurse in a real battle.

The Mermaid

This story my grandmother told me long ago. The story is written from her name:

“I was only five years old. It was the end of summer 1933. My parents and I went to deep in the forest cut grass for our cow.

I was sleeping when my parents were working and when they went to sleep in the evening I wanted to play.

I heard a child's laugh and when to see what was going on. And I noticed a little girl hiding behind a small pine tree.

The girl looked at me and started to laugh. She touched my dress and my hair and was laughing even more. I gave her my small doll and the girl looked like she had never seen dolls before.

Fire in the dark forest

Vika was a big troublemaker. She did not listen her mother at all. Every day was big fight about something: Vika's provocative make up, short skirts, smoking, missing school classes, flirting with boys.

And one evening Vika slammed the door and decided to run away. She went to the train station all mad thinking she would take a train to another city and never ever go home again. Then Vika realized she did not have enough money to buy a train ticket.

"May be I walk trough the forest right now". And she took a bus and went to the forest outside of the city.

I was very dark, but Vika bravely stepped forward and started to walk.

Magic Lake

One old man Victor told me this story.

Many years ago Victor was organizing night schools in the smallest Russian towns and villages. And his job required a lot of traveling and of course was very interesting to see new cities, new people almost every month.

Victor was young and handsome man with a respectable job and many people would invite him for parties or other special occasions.

In one very old village Victor was invited on a birthday party to some old sisters.

And on this party he met a very beautiful woman.

Тысяча путей

Тысяча путей,

Тысяча дорог.

Тысяча надежд,

Тысяча тревог.

Тысяча огней

Осветляют путь.

Не боюсь уже

В темноту шагнуть.

Я сильнее вдруг

Стала нивзначай;

Гонит, гонит вьюга

Всю мою печаль.

Снова я взгляну

С дерзостью вперёд.

Знаю, знаю, знаю

Прошлое пройдёт.

My Russia in pictures

Рассказ солдата

С нежностью в разлуке,

Вспомню твои руки,

Вспомню поцелуев

Ласковых тепло.

Вспомню День Победы,

Праздник до рассвета.

Вспомню как вернулся

В милое село.

Тут боями танки

Травы выжигали.

Тут родные хаты

Сравняны с землёй.

Тут простые парни,

Славные девчата

Собирались молча

На неравный бой.

Закрывали небо

Крылья самолётов,

И огонь железный

Всё сверкал в ночи.

Ну а мы мальчишки,

Юные солдаты,

Шли за командирами,

Без раздумьев шли.

За страну родную

Бились мы жестоко

И не уступили

Ни клочка земли.

Так давай товарищ,

Выпьем мы по-полной,

Что бы больше не было

Никакой войны.

Midnight party on the empty land

Many years ago Masha, a twenty seven years old Russian woman, was working in one of the Soviet collective farms which was restored after the Second World War.

Masha was driving a tractor in this farm and sometimes she used it kind of "illegally". On Fridays she drove her tractor from work to dance parties in a local dance club. Masha liked one man and she thought the woman driver would be very attractive.
Then of course the other men treated her like a buddy. They would offer her drinks and cigarettes.

And that Friday night Masha was drunk a bit and on her way back home she felt a sleep on a big empty land close the river.

Then some one touched her shoulder and woke her up.

Gypsy's gift

When I applied for the immigration visa I knew it would take some time to get it, but I did not expect it would take so much time, like forever.

Every day I had to call and ask if my visa was approved. The answer was always: “no, please call again”.

I was living in Moscow at that time, but when all my money finished I had to return back home.

I started to work in a small company and I had to take a bus home.

One time gypsies were walking near the bus stop and a little gypsy boy asked me to give him some money, not much just a dollar.