Читать книгу Heart-to-heart letters: to MrRight from CCCP - Larisa Kharakhinova - Страница 10

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Oh, how beautiful your letters! – I`ve loved them. They open the wonderful soul, – soul of poet, dreamer, romantic. Such beautiful that there exist such people, – people, who see the Color of the Wind, who hear the `гул вечности`, whose hearts are vulnerable by Beauty.

How I understand you! I touch with your soul and hear the heartbeat. Your letters, – oh, – I cannot compare it with something, – yes, – Difficult to explain the Color of the Wind, it must be felt. – They inspire me to live, to look at the sky, to believe.

They drop a spark into my heart, unfreeze it.

How I pine for the Dawn, for the Harmony of lost world, for the melody of love. Such a tender sadness, such a lightful nostalgia… my God! Can it really be true? I read over and over and over…

How I`m grateful to fate, thrown me into the train to meet your eyes. I`m afraid to lose you, my friend, I`m afraid that thin thread of our communication suddenly will be torn, and mirage`ll clear away – left only a bitter smile and a lonely echo.

It`s a beautiful night-dream. What will the morning have brought with it?

Tomorrow I`ll go to official journey, untill 15/06/90.

And again in Novosibirsk`s Academgorodok. It`s the town of my youth, my alma-mater.

There`s a little pain to return there again and again. Maybe, one day I`ll return there for ever. Who knows?

I think, this year I`ll been living here still, but I cannot suppose where I`ll be next year.

Life can play solitaire topsyturvy. Please, write me to the address of my aunt. They always know where I am.

Your previous letter was gotten by me just after my long journey in Academgorodok. That splin was called up by this. I`m sorry that I splash out my mood upon you, but I cannot write against myself. – Прости, так вышло…

Крик среди моря!

Чьё сердце, ставши волною, – о волны грусти! – в море кричало? Голос, откуда голос? Какие крылья занесли тебя в пучину?

…каждый вал тебя увлекает, и – вал рассекая грудью, острей чем плавник дельфина, – ты снова исходишь криком: хрипом, хрипом, хрипом…

О, крыльев парус бессильный! На крыльях ласточки хрупкой все дальше, все глубже, глубже, глубже…

Крик среди моря!..

Разве поможет звездное эхо?..

Крик среди моря!.. (Мачадо или Хименес?)

…..

Thank you for your wish for my love. But marriage and love are different notions, not always together. I prefer the second, yet.

Question of a marriage – I never took it seriously. Only with `ha-ha`. Though some people still try to convince me in a historical necessity of this great deed `for the welfare of mankind`.

By the way, if your name is pronounced in Russian, more softly or tenderly [Brad]=>[Bred], it`s get `Bred`=Бред. In Russian it means `fantasmagoria, figment of imagination`. Does it flatter for you? (Excuse my childish trick. It is I – `so-and-so`).

It seems I digressed from the theme. – As always.

Such is woman`s nature.

But if to say not mind, but heart – heart waits for one, who will be the only. It`s ready to wait for a long. Unless it`ll have frozen over completely. Life is cruel, it breaks illusions, dreams; it convert lyric into cynic, lamb into ram. – Anything may happen. Yet, life is beautiful. And heart knows, and waits.

…`Maybe, he will be a stranger on a long night train?` – oh, it would be too romantic, too incredible for it to be real.

But in `that reality` – all is possible.

F.e. imagine – written love, kiss, marriage – and all charms and thorns of it in written form. (Again I laugh, but here is any bitterness).

Ветерок постучался негромко

В мое сердце при свете зари

– Я принес ароматы жасмина,

Ты мне запахи роз подари.

– мой сад зарастает бурьяном

И все розы мои мертвы.

– я возьму причитанья фонтанов,

горечь трав и опавшей листвы…

ветерок улетел… моё сердце в крови…

Душа! Что ты сделала с садом своим…

Why I`m so intimate with you in the letters, as diary. Maybe, because you become the part of my soul?

Yes, you are my invisible friend, not only friend – somebody more than… than real friend, – yes, part of soul.

It is funny to live, ne? Too funny. For now it`s rain. What is rain? – Maybe – tears. What is love? What is life? I knew only what is laugh. Laugh at life, laugh at myself, laugh at this world, at the crowd, trampling the best feelings.

Maybe my city – Ulan-Ude will soon be opened and you can come to me – в гости. Would you like to come to CCCP once more? Or to Novosibirsk. There – are all my friends.

Not farewell!

This summer I`ll have more spare time, so I begin to study Eng. Seriously. For now my success in that is only ability to read adapted books, such as `Pooh-the-Bear` or `Winny-the-Pooh` – such a nice book, ne?

`It will be then`. I wait for your letters, not only replying ones.

With love, Larisa.

One more paper.

For now I am sitting in airport and waiting for airliner. And contemplate the crowd around me. And more – I am writing to you. It`s a pity – here is no my loved dictionary, yet, I try to write in terms of words, known by me. What about?

f.e. about life.

What do you want from life? From yourself? Even – what do you expect? How your Romantism… feel itself… in real life or where are you – flying in clouds or between Heaven and Earth?

You remind me of my darling little brother. His name is Alexander or simply Sasha or Shura. I very-very love him. He always can understand me withour words, – understand and forgive. He is poet (and math too). And, in-general – handsome boy. As I can see, he cannot decide what he`ll do in life. Such many doubts, hesitations, throwings.

Where is the Truth? Where is my way? Who am I? What am i? etc.

Each human one day must have done the choice. I think 25 is critical point for it. Now I stand on the cross-roads and try to define the direction for me. (There exist a proverbial such as `yoga or marriage` only for our circle of my friends-girls). And I cannot – my head is cracking at the seams.

Let me think one more year, until 25. To find myself.

Indeed I want to begin to go in for yoga – to knowledge. My idee-fixe is concerned with it, but not with Math, this factory, this life.

Question of marriage… difficult to say.

What is marriage? If it`s necessity, then this one, i.e. necessity can wait for 25, or more far. Because as I can see the life, woman in marriage must do a choice – `either-or`. Such many problems. F.e. imagine if she stand in a queue during 2-3 or 4 hours, then she must do her work with such mood, after that. What will be?

I saw many women in marriage, simple women – I do not want to be like they. The only thoughts in their mind – where it can be bought? How much it is cost? Etc, – nothing of Romantic, more, they stand only on the earth, do not look at the sky, not dream.

My aunt says that I am torn from reality, and my parents too.

But if human is such?..

I am not torn from this life, but I can live in many realities simultaneous. And this fact stops me to have done the choice. Because –

1) if: to go in for Yoga, – way to perfection requires from human to be perfectible, i.e. many human qualities (weakness=слабость) must be killed. But I too love life, I`m a woman and all properties of them are not alien to me.

2) but if: to live only as woman, – тоска… always I`ll feel that it isn`t mine. I`m tearing between 1) and 2), between 3) and 4) and so on.

I fear, I am afraid of crucial step, I fear that I cannot fight for or against.

Human is created for … what?

For getting to know the World, the Universe, (maybe understand of God), not only by mind, or only heart; human must self-develop, – self-perfect – and soul, and heart, and intellect, and body.

Thirst of Knowledge, thirst of feeling of the Harmony of the World, of love. Human must fly in mind, by soul. Human must …..

I believe in Human (Human soul is my God, maybe). God is soul?

Not long ago I`d remembered strokes – something from ancient Indian (?):

Внутри себя раскрепости себя –

Тогда придет великая Свобода…

What is the absolute Freedom?

God and `absolute-inside-Freedom` can exist simultaneous or not?

Inside freedom – is my Dream, my Goal. Maybe.

Yet, sometimes I feel myself as a simple, weak woman, who needs in Love. Sometimes I want to be a business human. Such many wishes.

It`s difficult to understand oneself. What I want indeed? – To sleep… I am tired.

Yet, I`m ready to begin all over again. Last splash of youth…

Why I write you this? Maybe because you`re my special friend. You become the part of my soul, of my life.

I hope – eppur si muove!

With love – your far friend – Lara.

P.S. I very wait for your letter – one more life, maybe more beautiful than others.