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To talk about surrealism

Запись от Магнолия размещена 24.08.2012 в 10:22
Обновил(-а) Магнолия 06.02.2013 в 22:58

About unearthly .....

  The sea foam waves clothed,
  And the stones hit the surf foam,
  And the stones with the sea rushes Planet
  In circles forever with him.
        Goethe. "Faust." Prologue in Heaven.
        Translation by Boris Pasternak.

   - Were you there? - He asked, not with fear, not with hope.
   - Yes, many times - she said calmly - do not worry. You'll love it.
   They stood at the bottom, and each anticipated heights beyond the clouds. It was beautiful, poetic and full of romance. And he was a brave and proud that I never turn aside from the call and walked in the dark, knowing what will come of it necessarily the winner. She slowly stroke a wandering eye of the road ahead in space, noticing the huge stones, which will have to turn to then be on the right ledge. She already felt like it started to move apart slightly, giving her intentions. Cleared distant rivers, trails and glades-junction where you can relax and re-route.
   Such a comprehensive, infinite, looping, it is always ready to accept everyone with open arms and show that the only way of salvation, which is elected. IT to let them to, and they began to rise.
   - There's been someone else? - He went on to ask, thinking to hear the names of the representatives of unknown caste.
   - Yes. Do you know some. They have become immortal, - she said quietly, holding back evidence.
   No, he froze in his tracks, but something happened. For many years, he used to trust her, even if not always understood within her thoughts. But immortality? This does not happen! Everything has its measure! He now debunked mystique. Of course, the walk will be pleasant, but only just. Confidence to successfully become an indulgent smile, and he politely asked to name at least one name.
   It smoothly, like an angelic beam described an arc from the vertex to the foot with the words: "It is immensely because disproportionate to everything we see. It may be negligible and immensely limitless. Its measure is usually so large that the whole country of people - this swarm of bees or squirrels ephemeral mosquitoes. Sometimes greatness of the human mind is so great that it can not cover it all at once and all measures, measures from century to century, and will measure up to as long as mankind is ripe to understand. This immeasurable measure saw once literary and philosophical view of Nicholas Roerich. And then it is allowed to Roerich concisely portray themselves any images and colors. Roerich was there. When he returned, drawn down from the mountains rider on a white horse, hermit-conductors and signed canvas "Remember! . "Roerich was there and become immortal."
   Again, something happened. She stood on the tall stone and carefully chose not too steep trail, so they do not break down. Usual crowd of tourists drive on a pattern, and he suddenly suspected that, regardless of him, with his personality and his will, he will be forced on someone else's will. Arrow inside rushed about, striking it on one, then on the other end of the scale to the limits of confidence "from" and "to", and for some reason reminded of verses:
 
                   Wandered amid the lives, not Trans.
                   But we must know where the temple, where a barn.
                   Given the choice of Conscience
                   Soul hold on Miru

                   Of likelihood to loyalty
                   From rejection to jealousy.

                   All waiting, hoping for a warm,
                   What a powerful and light.
                   Case will help to meet you,
                   So that the light beam path is not rad

                   And the poor, and the equipment,
                   And in the darkness, and the enlightenment.

   Once again she was with him, but something had changed. She waited faithfully, knowing how difficult choice between family and strangers. Once upon a passionate thirst for renewal of life fascinated her into unknown territory. She crouches to the sacred sources, gushing from limestone slabs, and the magical drink became clairvoyant. It so happened that she had never in her hands or a brush, or a flute, but MIP bright colors and sounds of himself into her, and they were dissolved in each other. Now to the sources far away. Midway.
   The clouds were much closer. He was back at her side, and some instinct told him that it was time to decide. He took out a large ripe apple and a long hard look through it to his youth. Lo, crowded questions spring breaks the apple branch to enjoy the beautiful buds and blossoming flower. Then this "herbarium" somehow met him once nedochitannoy book. Needless to learn that immature apples are not wanted, and he was careful to absorb the "salt of the earth." And he is already well on his feet, but I want to spread my wings - hawk soar in the sky, a hawk overtake goals eagle dominate forests and seas ... He strongly raspolovinit golden delicious apple pink and black beads either grains, or wake up to the palm seeds. "Apparently, there is a call of the wild - as a matter he thought. - Perhaps, together they will not know all the time what our generations yet to realize"
   - Tell someone else about an acquaintance of immortals - he said aloud with a genuine interest and made it clear that he wants to follow it further, not even trying to ferret out the secrets of recognition stones.
   - There, except the valleys, rich colors of unimaginable beauty, there are snow-capped peaks. Between them walking musical echo that for various reasons self down from the clouds and is retained in the appropriate infant, - in her eyes dancing igrinki and singsong voice said.
   - In principle, all explained. They sing and play a lot, because the music is pleasant to the ear. But only pure heart without greed happy when people feel melodies, and tried to give them even more fun to everyone. Consciously or unconsciously, but with sympathy and encouragement exacerbated thereby introducing it into the subconscious of a young child, and then it is alive and growing with it. If the time to learn not only to play the instruments, but also record the songs ...
   - I read "The Rise and Earth." Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is really immortal composer.
- Well, as you doubted immortality. Remember, before we have a very thick cloud. Sometimes we will not see each other, but there, in the clouds, when all merge into one, will be so rosy!
   - And bezyablochno - He laughed and added seriously - enough for me to believe you, my dear hermit.

***

 - We're going yet?
 - Yes, but only for these walks need new shoes.
 - I'll get you! - He said, not knowing he did not know where they sell magic shoes for a magical journey.


ill. Nicholas Roerich. Remember.

© Magnolia Dmitriev.

Diary "Magnolia" in the "ARTinvestment Forum" includes copyrights write for publication, including illustrated.
The reprint without permission of author issued.
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