"Holy Russia" in Paris, the exhibition at the Louvre until May 25

[dedulya37]

[tchaika]

I must say that agree with the opening of a theme "Holy Russia, Myth or Reality" in the "Art Kaleidoscope" and agrees to the transfer there of historical messages. I myself some time ago wanted to do this, but continued here, because the theme of the exhibition is inseparable from the history.
Well, here - about the exhibition:
The exhibition "Holy Russia" has truly become an event.

- Posters of the exhibition "Holy Russia" on the facade of the Louvre in Paris.

[tchaika]

All the best and brightest wish you and your family in the New 2011!


- Painting Appolinaria Vasnetsov, "Saints stone bridge. Moscow end of the XVII Century, 1901.

[tchaika]

+ + +

Run up the hill and fall into the grass.
And suddenly, from antiquity poveet dale!
And suddenly the picture of the terrible strife
I am at this moment I see reality ...

Desert light on the banks of the stellar
And the string of your birds, Russia,
Eclipsed for a moment in the blood and pearls
Dumb shoe high cheekbones Batu!

And I see the horses without riders
With their hectic shouting stupid,
Flicker of bodies, swords and fists,
And the running of the Tatars in the field Kulikovom ...

Russia, Russia - which I neither have a look!
For all your sufferings, and the battle
I love thee, Russia, old
Thy forests, graveyards and prayers ...

Russia, Russia! Take care of yourself and cherish!
Look back into the forest and thy dales
On all sides they descended,
Other times of the Tatars and Mongols ...

Crosses, crosses ... I can not!
I greatly take away from the eyes of the palm
And suddenly I see: quietly in the meadow
Grass chewed hobbled horses.

Zarzhut they - and somewhere in aspen
Pick up the echo of a slow neighing,
And me - the immortal stars of Russia,
Quiet stars boundless flicker ...

Nikolay Rubtsov

[Ika-Ika]

Soon the 40 years since the assassination of Nicholas Rubtsova.19 January 1971.

[tchaika]

There is another version, supposedly his heart stopped (read that in the stifling - other symptoms). Needless to say - a strange story. Infinitely sorry that the poet died early. He himself did not shore rasstrachival, burned. But many shined. A brave man he was. Eternal memory to him!
A feeling that he foresaw his early death, and predicted the collapse of the Soviet Union.

+ + +

If I die - for me
Do not light the fire!
Tell relatives the news
And visit me.

Where I buried it, ask
Inhabitants of distant places,
Everyone in Russia
Monument - a good cross!

+ + +

Postpone their meager food
And sent to eternal rest.
Let me still looking for love and
Over my lonely river.

Nikolay Rubtsov

[Ika-Ika]

Сообщение от Ika-Ika

January 19, 1971.

I will die in the Epiphany frosts
I will die when the crackling birch
In the spring of terror will be complete:
At the churchyard the river will flood wave!
From my flooded graves
The coffin will emerge, forgotten and dull
Break with a bang
                                     and in the darkness
Uplyvut terrible wreckage
I do not know what it is ...
I do not believe in eternal peace!


 Nikolai Rubtsov.

[tchaika]

+ + +

In this village, the lights are not extinguished.
You give me grief not prophesy!
Bright stars gently decorated
A quiet winter night.

Lit, quiet, shining, wonderful,
A noise polynya ...
Were the way my hard, hard.
Where are you, my sadness?

Modest young woman smiles at me,
I myself smiling and happy!
Hard, hard - everything is forgotten,
Bright stars burn!

Someone told me that in the mist zametelennoy
Stalls abandoned prairie?
Someone told me that hope is lost?
Who invented it, friend?

In this village, the lights are not extinguished.
You give me grief not prophesy!
Bright stars gently decorated
A quiet winter night.

Nikolay Rubtsov

[Ika-Ika]

'm Going to cry.

[tchaika]

+ + +

Hello, Russia - my native land!
Stronger storms, stronger than any will
Love for your barn with stubble,
Love to you, hut in the azure field.
For the chorus I do not give
Its low house with a small window with nettles ...
How mirotvorno in my front room
In the evenings roll the sun!
As the entire room, the heavenly and earthly,
Breathed through the window of happiness and peace,
And glorious breezed antiquity,
And elated by rains and intense heat! ..

Nikolay Rubtsov