Читать книгу Heart-to-heart letters: to MrRight from CCCP - Larisa Kharakhinova - Страница 7

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Your letter from 27.02.90 disarms me, throws me into confusion. How can I – human, accustomed to speak about serious things, maybe the most sacred for myself, by ironical tone, creating a semblance that nothing is sacred to me? – How can I answer on your letter? The one is as a clear, tender voice of a flute at dawn, dewy morning, on which impossibly to pounce on by a cascade of heavy-metal in the glow of a fire.

`What will she say?` – what can I say about that – hardly be expressed even on native language? (How) can I find these words in chaos of thoughts and feelings? Can I get out from this dark maze towards the daybreak and openly smile for you?

…And now I`m walking to and fro in my room and meditating, my thoughts have travelled back to the past, looking through the whole life. I ask questions myself and try to answer. How can I?… – From the heart, too. –

Итак.

Who were, and are, you being for me? – at that time – in the train, and for now – in letters? I should say about a bewitching, mooving melody, has been heard by chance, in passing, but retaining in the heart for a long time, maybe, for ever.

What have I seen in the eyes of the stranger, that such excited and amazed my soul? – I don`t know.

Maybe, as sometimes it happens, – in unlimited searchings and vain throwings, – suddenly glance into one`s eyes and by the sixth feeling guess that something – incomprehensible by thoughts, that cannot be said by words, but inexplicably attracts. Alas, the instants fly away and this unexpressed and misunderstood something retains only in memory of the heart.

For now your existance sometimes seems to me abstract, almost unreal. The fact that, most kindly, we will never meet once again makes our existance for each other as if `non-existant`. Our communication through the correspondence of letters has a touch of a fantasy (for me). Play of imagination. Maybe, it`s even fine.

Oh, yes, it would be delightfully romantic – two strangers under a starry sky…

A starry sky – it`s beautiful.

The starry sky, in that I look for my God, – was looking for a long time, through the disbelief and despair, through labyrinths of doubts and `smoke of sigarettes`.

It`s difficult to find the Belief, when all Gods are thrown down, when all is pulled down to the dust and only chilling winds freeze a naked, defenceless soul.

It may seem that it`s bad for me. Not, I don`t complain. But (sometimes) this still hurts…– I`ll not speak about this any more.

`What does, and did, she think of my heart?` – dear Brad, what do I think? Just maybe I could have fallen in love with you. But the fate is taken us away to different sides. Each of us is going own road. – But that moment cannot be struck out of the life.

I would be listening to the flute at dawn, but I`m `moonchild, playing hide-and-seek with the ghosts of Down`.

I can only say by the words of Byron –

Remember me is all I ask.

But if remembrance proves a task – forget!

And what is more, 07.07.1990 I`ll be 24. Sunset of the life for me. I`ll not live `lo-o-ong and ha-a-appy`. Time is speeding. I`m retiring to the night. Adiue.

Good-bye!

Sincerely your – with love,

Larisa.

P.S. reading your letters I can say – I guessed.

Возможно, это письмо покажется тебе корявым или что-нибудь в этом духе – поверь, что оно искреннее, кончаю столь быстро, так как боюсь удариться в пустопорожний speech about nothing. Если стечение обстоятельств заставит меня замолкнуть – ты будешь извещен об этом моей cousin or brother.

So long. With love – Lar

P.P.S. I cannot feel your language. It`s sorry. What it means – `to be cautious of one`s letter`?