Poems,stories and pictures by Irina Mouravleva.
Маленький город,
Старый вокзал.
Теперь здесь давно все закрыто.
Помнишь, мне тихо сказал,
Ты пой, мое сердце открыто.
Запела я вдруг о странах других,
Дорогах, дорогах, дорогах.
Где пальмы и солнце,
И море вдали, что с детства
По снам мне знакомы.
Ты вдруг замолчал,
Посмотрел на меня.
Зачем тебе дальние сраны.
Вот дом наш, родной наш причал.
Зачем нам моря, океаны.
Здесь осенью лужи,
Ответила я,
Дожди проливные и тучи.
Работы тут нет хорошей.
И дни друг на друга, одни за другим,
Похожи, похожи, похожи.
Тебя я любила,
Меня ты любил,
Но что-то стало такое.
По лужам, холодным дождем,
Ты шел веселый с другой
И свадьба твоя весною.
Сейчас у меня город другой
И адрес мой на английском.
Каждый день думаю я,
Нет это уже привычка.
Ты, наш маленький город
И старый вокзал, что с детства в мечтах мне знакомы.
Ночью звездной,
Ночью странной,
Ты пришел ко мне незванно.
Весь был соткан из тумана,
Весь был соткан из обмана,
Цвет зеленых глаз твоих.
Говорил про то что было,
И про то что позабыла.
Про чужие дали, страны.
За моря и океана,
Шли верблюдов караваны.
Вижу берег я далекий,
Волны, солнце, воздух теплый.
Поцелуев и объятий,
И из роз богатых платьев.
Золотые амулеты, на руках моих браслеты,
Драгоценные брилинты,
Тихих слуг моих таланты.
Говорил красиво, много.
Сквозь года пронес и горы.
Соглашайся, не стесняйся,
Нас закружат в старом вальсе.
Говорил ты одинокий.
И задел меня рукою, и обнять хотел наверно.
Только свет лампады строгий ...
Не хочу, сказала прямо,
Все что может быть и было,
Все ушло, все я забыла.
Дорога знакомая,
Радости дня.
Нет не ищу я покоя.
Спасибо за то,
Что ты для меня
Сияешь яркой звездою.
Пораньше проснусь, кофе налью.
Нет, утро начну я с зарядки.
У меня есть где-то звезда,
Значт все в порядке.
Работа, работа,
Летит и летит.
Улыбка играет как пламя.
А вечером я на звезды смотрю.
Сияют они и сияют.
Мне очень нужна твоя звезда.
Одной мне звезды не хватает.
Ромашка, ромашка,
Ты мне расскажи,
Любит не любит.
Ах что же.
Люблю я сама проливные дожди.
Дожли веть неверные тоже.
Бывает пройдут далеко далеко.
Бывает подойдут очень близко.
Потом посмеются тихонько в глаза:
Искали тебя по прописке.
Снова уйдут ничего не сказав.
Я утром проснусь, как жемчуг роса.
Искали меня по прописке.
Может быть нам с тобой
Очагом одним не согреться,
Из ключа одного родниковой воды не попить.
Но любовь счастья круг,
Как срасательный круг в моем серце.
Новые мысли, мечты.
Я полюбила другого.
Нет я полюбила себя.
Значит юность не ушла без ответа.
Снова голос знакомый первой чистой любви.
И в душе поет лето, снова блеск дискотеки, платье яркое, красивые туфли мои.
Улыбнусь я прохожим, кольцо подороже и тайна,
Улыбаюсь сегодня я только ему.
Привет, привет.
Ты послан был зачем-то мне.
Все хорошо и у тебя и у меня.
Я не ищу и не спешу в любовь играть.
Скажу я прямо в первый раз,
Я замужем, а ты женат.
Зачем скрывать
И эти мысли отгонять.
А для чего-же ты в моей судьбе.
Возник как ветер перемен,
Счастливых, верю я.
Привет.
Мне тихо зеркало в ответ.
Красивей не найдешь.
И свежий ветер, солнца свет,
Пора вставать, открой тетрадь,
Бегом в спортзал.
Так я сказал.
Привет.
Весна пришла, любовь, ура.
Любовь к себе, весне, красе,
Под синим небом маленькой листве, и лужам и ручьям, цветочкам на лугах где я гуляла в юных снах.
Привет, привет,
Позвольте мне сказать,
Холодный крепкий зимний день.
Да где-то, кто-то,
С кем-то где.
Так было много раз.
Позвольте вас спросить.
Нет, спроси себя,
А нужно ли вот это мне?
Да, много там всего,
Там в жарких странах,
Праздник и всегда жара.
А нужно ли всегда вот это мне, но соглашусь и да и нет.
Привет, я лето,
Праздник до утра.
Ты празнуй, веселись.
И согласись, спроси себя,
А что потом.
Как в песне,
Новый поворот и что он принесет.
Ответ простой,
Сначала полюби, любовью новой,
Ты себя.
И книжка новая, спортивный клуб, и что-то яркое,
Вот первый друг, привет.
Подожди, подoжди, подожди,
Без оглядки уходит время.
И дожди, проливные дожди
Мне давно надоели.
Дождь нахмурится.
Я же весна.
Свежий отдых листвы
После жаркого лета.
Вспомни тихий голос
У первой любви,
Что поет целый век в нашем сердце.
Теплым ливнем моим
Все бессонные ночи до блеска отмыты.
Без дождя нет цветов, нет зеленой травы.
Снова чистое все,
Для тебя, для меня
И для нового лета.
Winter. She is looking straight and far. No smile, no any emotions in her face. Only the eyes, thoughtful, that go deep, studying and understanding.
What is she thinking about?
May be about the time when this village didn't know what electricity is, was mostly illiterate and uneducated.
How she shyly walked in the room filled with old and young people who were loud reading together book now parents reading to the small children. Where she first time met people talking about equal rights and freedom.
Or she sees herself young, looking at the mirror and touching new necklace with shiny red beads.
“Your beauty is not for this"- her mother says.
And again, work in the house and roads without being or end. They are walking without shoes, her mother and grandmother, following few people and quietly prayings
Picture of a man appearing from somewhere far, becoming brighter and brighter. Tall man, looking like a black bird at the beginning. Then the colors start to change. He is wearing long shird, with thin made out of thin long fabric. The shirt is white, creamy white. He has long black hair, the face, the skin like doll skin, smooth and light. And he has black beard, a bit curly or wavy. It surprised in the childhood, why the hair is smooth and the beard are wavy. Then someone's else faces come on mind. Men are drinking tea, they look very satisfied and proud. She sees her grandmother hiding few coins in the bag and saying: ”Our helper”. And secretly watching this man again, back in the far away childhood. The man is listening, sitting half on the stool. Its some kind of café inside of a small hotel where people like them walking from different places could sleep overnight. The road home again.
Always happy, fresh looking in colorful clothes with fuchsia color lipstick. And with solution for everything. Everything is easy with her. Long time ago, I was studying, after the Second World war, and living in a room rented by my parents from an old woman. A young man started to follow me, we became friends, he would met me in the evening, we would go my house together. One day he didn't meet me, I was surprised and went home by myself. Everything was gone from my room, food, clothes, food cards. We used student cards to by food at that time. The room had only bed, chair and table. I was so upset, that I sat on the floor and started to cry. Then I went to his house and he wasn't living there. For few days I didn't eat, didn't what to do, the people I was living with gave me some food and told to go back home and get something else to wear and eat. In the morning someone knocked to the door. It was this young man all white and shaking. In his hands was all my stuff. He dropped everything in front of me, fell on his knees and started to beg for exuse. After a while, when he stopped shaking, he told me the story. In the middle of the night something lifted him from the bed and threw on other side of the room. He hit the wall and slided on the floor. Three soldiers were standing in front of him. He could see through them, they were from some kind of fog. And they were angry. “Return everything “, - one of the soldiers said, it sounded as metal was scraping something. They stood and watched him when he was picking my things. Then disappeared. I think the soldiers were my uncles who gave their lives in the war. And that what her personality was coming from. Its nice, its warm and going to be fine.
She is like spring that always comes after winter. How cold it is, its March, the spring is here, and the warm days are coming. Strong and stubborn, taking no “no" for answers. She always gets what she wants, mostly its not much, but still, its her way. Born before Russian Social Revolution in 1917 in the wealthy family, she received education most girls in her time didn't have. After the revolution, she married a very funny man, how she described, who supporter the revolution and was a revolutionary himself. The life was changed, everything went in to hidden until the early 1980th when it became popular to look and remember the secret family roots. The family tree was made into big picture and put on the living room door.
Autumn. She
is cold autumn. With wind and dark sky. There's nothing warm about her. Cold,
strong, with no chance of getting the
sun through those grey clouds. She doesn't smile or laugh, always focusing on
something people don't really see or think.
On the
bench she moves her scarf covering her head and shoulders. Medals on the front
of her jacket. She was at the war. It is very strange, because no one think about
her being young or beautiful. “ She was young and very beautiful”- an old man
says slowly drinking his tea. Then he continues. “I was working at the place,
in the city, where people can rent horses for personal rides and deliveries. All
day feeding and cleaning horses. One day I went on the market to buy something
for our shop. And there was her, in a small shop selling berries. It was a side
where people from the local villages selling their vegetables and fruits. She
looked like a young woman from the city, not from village. Light skin,
fashionable hair and clothes. I was stunned, stood over there and only was
looking at completely forgotten what I had to buy. From that day I would go
every day to look at her. In a week I stopped at her small shop. “What would
you like?” – she smiled looking in my eyes. Her eyes were different like they
tried to look almost inside of my mind.
I wasn't be able to say anything and left, coming back again the next
day.
One evening
she asked me to help her bring her things, the one she didn't sell, to her
house. “It's far"- she smiled. I noticed, every time she was talking, she
would smile and open her eyes as if she was very surprised. We walked always to
the same place, close to the forest and then she would disappear into green
lines of trees. “Don't go with her,”- my mother told me when I was trying to
leave for a new date helping to move unsold things. “People think she a witch.”
We started to argue and I didn't listen, I was in love. Months went by,
meetings on the market and walking once in a while to the forest. “Let's get
married?” – I asked when we got closer to the forest. She smiled with the same
surprise in her eyes. “I cannot. I have to marry my own". I thought she
was talking about me working at the horse shop. We started ti argue and soon I
realized I was in the forest with her. I turned back, dropping her bags on the
ground. After walking for a white, I realized I was at the same place. I walked
again and I was at the same place. And again, and again. Walk in the same
circle. Scared a little, all I could think was old falk stories and their advices.
I turned my shoes different way and started to walk again.
She met me at the same place where we were standing. She smiled showing with her eyes to follow her. A ball of leaves rolled to her and when we were walking it would follow us. It was rolling close to her getting little bit bigger from peaking more small leaves or grass on it. Finally we got to a house standing on the side of a village. I have been at this village before, but I have never seen her before. “My relatives live here. Come in". Few children ran to us showing things they made. A family was sitting at the table and waiting for us. We had dinner without saying anything. Every one was quiet. On the way back, she walked with me back to the city, I asked who where those children. “They are not children “, - she replied with different tone of voice. Then slowly we started to see each other less and less. In 1941 I went to the Second World war. We met again when I returned back on few days off the army in 1943. She was in the military uniform. We walked together on the road to the forest. I was talking, it was warm evening, the sky, everything around was calm and peaceful. I went back to the war, she too. In few month I was captured by the Nazi and was sent to Poland to work as prisoner of war. And all that time until the liberation, in 1945, I would see her eyes in my mind, imagination. Her face was blurry, only the eyes, brown and serious, watching me. I returned back to my city, and never met her again, until I was already old man.
Wizier Swinuk: there are two owners is in here.
Big Swinuk:
sugar!
Big Hruck:
war!
Wizier
Swinuk: exactly.
Bingo.
Big Swinuk:
we gor the wrong pig.
Big Hruck:
we are going to get our free sugar tomorrow!
Big Hruck: when you are pigs are done?
Hrucks: can
this job be more boring.
Wizier
Hruck: crazy bees.
Big Hruck:
give them candies.
Wizier
Hruck: be careful, it has alcohol.
Big Hruck: this
what we need.
Wizier Swinuk: who blocked the exit?
Big Hruck: things change, bye.
Hrucks: we are going to Manila bar
To the red lights district. Big Hruck: yeah.
Lets go and get our free sugar!
Wizier Hruck: the weather looks weird.
Its
raining!
Big Hruck:
all I want rain and alcohol.
Hrucks:
rain and alcohol!
Bees: they are
getting stupid by day.
Bee: they
are stealing our honey!
Big Hruck:
we only want to check sugar!