In memory of Nikolai Rubtsov

[tchaika]

"... Happy is he .. who are held when the soul is "

Today, 19 January 2011 - the day the memory of the poet Nikolai Rubtsov (1936 - 1971), who died early 40 years ago. He predicted: "I will die in the Epiphany frosts ..."
"The unknown great poet," - said about it to someone. January 3 this year he would have turned 75 years old.

Nikolay Rubtsov wrote: "Until I was still sunk the last wave of ancient Russian identity, which was a lot of beautiful, poetic ..."
"Born in 1936 in the Arkhangelsk region in the village of Emets. In 1940 he moved with his family to Vologda, where we caught and the war. My father went to the front in 1941. Soon after his mother died, and I was sent to St. Nicholas Orphanage Vologda region ... "
(See the beginning of this topic http://forum.artinvestment.ru/showth...=73841&page=10)

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I'll ride through the hills rescued the motherland,
Unknown son of amazing tribal voluntary!
As before jumping on the voice of luck capricious,
I'll ride on the trail bypassed the times ...

Russia! How sad! How strange and sad wilted
In darkness over a cliff obscure willow mine!
Desert shimmers pomerkshaya star chandelier
And my boat on the river shallows rot ...

Oh, rural scenes! Oh, wondrous good fortune to be born
In the meadows, like an angel, under the canopy of blue skies!
I'm afraid I'm afraid I like quite strong bird
Break their wings and never see miracles!

I am afraid that at us will not be a mysterious force
That swim out to the boat, everywhere'll get the sixth,
That all understanding, without sadness will go to the grave ...
Fatherland and Freedom - Stay, my god!

Stay, stay, sky blue vaults!
Stay like a fairy tale, fun Sunday night!
Let the sun on the arable lands is crowned with abundant seedlings
Old crown of his ascending rays! ..

I'm going to ride without breaking the nighttime breathing
And secret dreams of fixed large villages.
No one among the fields will not hear a dull jumping,
Nobody calls you flashed a light shade.

And only the suffering, wounded former paratrooper
Tell a delirious old woman surprised her,
That night tore a mysterious horseman
The unknown boy, and disappeared into the mist of fields ...
1963
Nikolay Rubtsov