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dizzy
apparition,
You came to take me on your road,
Through rain-soaked lilacs,
To your own possession,
To the looking glass world.
As night descended
I was blessed with grace,
The altar gate opened up,
And in the darkness shining
And slowly reclining
Was your body naked.
On waking up I said:
God bless you!
Although I knew how daring
and undue
My blessing was: You were fast
asleep,
Your closed eyelids
with the universal blue
The lilac on the table
so strained to sweep.
Touched by the blue, your lids
Were quite serene, your hand was
warm.
And rivers pulsed in crystal slits,
Mountains smoked, and oceans
swarmed.
You held a sphere in your palm,
Of crystal; on your throne
you were sleeping calm.
And, oh my God! -
Belonging only to me,
You woke and at once transformed
The language humans speak and think.
Speech rushed up sonorously formed,
With the word "you" so much
reformed
As to evolve a new sense meaning
king.
And suddenly all changed,
like in a trance,
Even trivial things,
so often used and tried,
When standing 'tween us,
guarding us,
Was water, solid, stratified.
It carried us I don't know where.
Retreating before us, like some
mirage,
Were cities, miraculously fair.
Under our feet the mint grass spread,
The birds were following our tread,
The fishes came to a river bend,
And to our eyes the sky was open.
Behind us our fate was groping,
Like an insane man with a razor
in his hand.
Oh, good heavens! Dounya!
What is it, Pasha?!
A fire! But be quiet.
He'll get it coming to him!
And what if Vitya is in there?
What if he's burned?
Where's Klanya?
What?
Dad!
- Alexei?
- Hello, ma!
What's wrong with your voice?
Nothing serious.
I guess it's just a sore throat.
I haven't spoken to anyone
for three days.
I even liked it. I think it's good
to keep silent for a while.
Words can't express everything
a person feels.
Words are flaccid.
I just dreamed of you in my sleep.
As though I were still a child...
By the way, what year was it
when dad left us?
1935. Why?
And the fire? Remember the hay-loft
that burned down at the farm?
That was in '35 too.
All right, stop pulling the wool
over my eyes.
You know... Lisa died.
The one I worked in the printing
house with.
- Oh God... When?
- This morning, at 7.
And what time is it now?
What is now?
- Almost six.
- In the morning?
What's the matter with you?
In the evening.
Mom, why do we have to fight
all the time?
I'm sorry if I did anything wrong.
Printing-house.
Next stop: Serpukhovskaya.
What's the rush?
Hello.
Where're the proofs
I've been reading?
I don't know. Just a minute.
Yelizaveta Pavlovna is here.
Marousia, what's wrong?
Something in yesterday's proofs?
In the Goslit edition?
Don't be so nervous!
We should look in the typesetting
case.
Nothing terrible has happened.
It's such an important edition!
Although misprints have no place
in any edition.
Shut up, you idiot.
- What happened?
- Nothing serious.
I just want to check something.
I may be wrong...
Let's start from the beginning.
I'd rather do it myself.
Everybody's rushing,
no one's got any time!
You think I'm afraid?
No, let other people
be afraid.
Some people should work,
and others should be afraid.
Well, nothing awful has happened.
If it happened, it happened.
We've been printing all night...
I waited for you since yesterday's
morning.
That you won't come they probably
guessed.
Remember what a beautiful weather
it was?
A holiday weather!
And I walked coatless.
Today you're here, and they have
arranged
An utterly gloomy and cloudy day,
It rains, and it's getting unusually
late,
The rain drops run down the cold
terrain,
Unsoothable by word, unwipable
by hand...
You see, it wasn't there, was it?
Everything is all right.
It wasn't...
That would've been a horrid mistake.
Why are you crying then?
I even saw that word typeset.
What word?
Great!
This is pure alcohol.
Not much, but it
Зеркало Зеркало

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