О Владимире Владимировиче можно долго говорить, он все...

You can talk about Vladimir Vladimirovich for a long time, he is always present in my life one way or another, starting with children's books, then poems, My Discovery of America, plays. And ten years ago I celebrated New Year 2008 in North Wales, a new period began in my life, and Henry Miller and Mayakovsky confidently took first place in it. Below is an excerpt from the diary.

I really didn’t want to leave, so much so that having left the hotel on Candidane on Sunday January 6, I did not go to Manchester, but stopped in Deganvi until January 8. Deganvi - stop on demand between the stations "Lido" and "Lido-Junction". I lived in the Hotel Deganvi Fortress Hotel, the windows overlooked a small bay with yachts, and in the evenings you could see Conwy Fortress in the evening lights. Under my room was the dining room, where exactly on the night before my departure the local Masonic lodge gathered (I'm lucky with the Masons). And at the moment when, I confess, I was already comfortably sitting under the covers reading a book, an impressive peal of the piano rang out from below and “God Save the Queen” sounded, performed by a harmonious chorus of male voices. With bated breath I expected to continue, but the Masons pleasantly disappointed me: they sang nothing more.

Still back to Llandudno. When in the evenings, sitting in a common room on the ground floor of the hotel, I looked out the window at the illuminated slopes of Bolshoi Orma, I caught myself thinking how this view reminds me of the Attic valley from the Colossus of Marussia: “a bowl with light cherries.” On the last evening in Lyndino I walked along the Promenade for a long time. It was not cold and not windy, there were few people, and I reached almost the very pier, next to which stands the Grand Hotel. Along this pier, a little way off, there is a wooden bridge, which is usually half hidden in the water. But that evening there was an ebb, and some kind of force pushed me to go along this bridge. I walked and walked, and the feeling was, in the end, as if I had gone to the middle of the bay. I was completely alone in the midst of darkness. Waves rumbled beneath the bridge; above me the night sky blackened with subtle specks of stars. And here it happened.

Ever since I read The Colossus ... I have been greatly impressed by two passages: about jazz and how Katsimbalis woke all Attica's roosters with his cock cry. And then standing on the wooden bridge in Lyndino, between the two elements, I suddenly, “with all my voice”, began to read:

Listen up!
After all, if the stars light up -
So - does anyone need this?
So - someone wants them to be?
So - someone calls these spit
a pearl?
And straining
in midday dust storms
bursts into god
afraid she was late
crying
kisses his sinewy hand
asks -
so there must be a star! -
swears -
will not bear this starless torment!
And then
anxious walks
but calm outwardly.
Tells someone:
"But now you have nothing?
Not scary?
Yes?!"
Listen up!
After all, if the stars
light up -
So - does anyone need this?
So - this is necessary,
to every evening
over the roofs
at least one star caught fire ?!

I did not have Attica's cocks; but I had stars, and I swear they lit up brighter with every word spoken. By the way, for the first time, on the same bridge, I examined several constellations. Is it any wonder why I didn’t feel like leaving?

#Northwels #Vladimirmayakovsky #th anniversary #genrimiller # travel # poetry # candid