Hello dear Martha!
I was a little delayed with the answer. I didn't want to write in a hurry, just to write, and time... not that I don’t have, but simply was not in that state. Slept like a marmot all weekends. Boris, unable to bear it, said that it was not normal to sleep so much. But this is nonsense.
You know, sometimes it seems to me, how to put it more precisely, that I am an episode in your life… Just don't be offended, please! Here is stupidity got into my head!
Do you want to know how it was with us? Firstly, it was much more prosaic than I always imagined. We met almost as soon as I arrived. I worked at his site, subordinate, so to call it. He was the head of the section, and I was in 'who knows what' role...
One day in the fall, it was still warm, he invited me to go to the cinema with him. We went. But somehow I didn't pay attention to this. And then everything happened only after the New Year.
It happened we celebrated a holiday in the same company, and I was overwhelmed. The word is rough, but I could not find a more precise definition. I woke up, realizing that I was kissing. Yes yes. Then I felt bad, he took me home.
Well, and then off we go. I made sure that he just wouldn't leave me alone. I was bored to death with all those films we watched... I wouldt say that he was unpleasant to me or something... I just thought that ‘he’ would not be like that. And his height too. You know that I was by no means a fan of short stature for men... That's it.
If Boris would only know what I am writing now… He’s sitting beside me and reading a magazine…
So, and ‘he’ turned out to be just like that, and we both would probably still meet, wandering the streets in the evenings, if at one moment he did not come and say: "That's enough, tomorrow we are going to the city to apply for marriage."
And I… I just didn’t resist. You know, like a blind kitten who resigned to fate and goes where it leads it. It was, of course, scary, as always all sorts of dirty tricks climbed into my head. Thousands of options flashed before my eyes. And I couldn’t stop at anything ... When later on Boris asked that if he had not taken my hand, would I have continued to be silent? And I, on reflection, answered ‘yes’.
So you see: a sea of contradictions and complete confusion.
And now I may say that I’m loved and loved for real. Can you imagine? I never thought that one could love me. Even to this day it is strange to say these words. And what more could I wish for?
I'm calm. And I can't imagine anyone else for myself. Now we are expecting a daughter. And I already know what her name will be. But he doesn't know. He pesters every day with stupid questions.
Sometimes I feel next to him as an aunt who has learned a lot in life and who has to teach everything to this restless, terribly stubborn child.
And sometimes I feel myself a little girl next to him. Girls sometimes ask if I'm happy. In my opinion, happiness is something momentary, coming and going. I tell them then that I am calm. In my opinion, this answer does not suit them.
But this is their business, and I live as I live. Busy with daily routines: to clean, wash, cook on time.
Sounds prosaic? But such is life, the main thing is not to get bogged down in all this. I could still write and write to you, but I would like to put one poem, I don't know if you've read it before.
This is Fasu Aliyeva:
Сегодня, знаю,
Не придёшь,
И в жаркую бросает дрожь –
Мне дня наставшего не надо,
На что сегодняшний мне день,
Когда со мною будет рядом
Весь день
Лишь собственная тень.
Мой беспокойный взор поник,
Внутри меня таится крик,
Мне от него безумно душно,
Пусть вырвется он,
Как вулкан,
Пускай разбудит равнодушных,
Которым дар любви не дан.
Пускай покинет крик меня,
Приняв подобие огня, –
Пускай увидят трезвым взором
Разбуженные среди дня,
То с их холодным миром рядом
Есть мир,
Исполненный огня.
Сегодня знаю,
Не придёшь,
И на пустыню мир похож,
И я бреду по той пустыне,
Но вот до моря добрела:
Наш Каспий, словно небо синий,
В день,
Раскалённый добела.
Молчу на тихом берегу,
Расстаться с болью не могу,
И вдруг разбушевалось море:
Волна вскипает за волной,
Наверно, в море
Капля горя
Обронена случайно мной.
Уже отзывчивый простор
Не усмирится до тех пор,
Покамест дара внятной речи
Я вновь не обрету вполне,
Покамест не дождусь я встречи
С тобою
В предстоящем дне***.
***“You won't come today, I know. And I’m in hot shiver -
I don’t need the day! What is today to me, When only my own shadow will be next to me…
My restless gaze drooped. There's a cry inside me, I am insanely stuffy from it. Let it break free like a volcano, let it wake up the indifferent to whom the gift of love is not given. Let the cry leave me taking the likeness of fire, - let them see with a sober gaze there is a world full of fire next to their cold world.
You won't come today, I know. And the world looks like a desert.
And I wander in that desert and come to the sea:
Our Caspian Sea is like blue sky in this glowing-hot day.
I am silent on a quiet shore, I can't part with pain
And suddenly the sea raged: wave boils after wave
Probably a drop of my sorrow fell down in the sea
And now this responsive element will not pacify until the gift of intelligible speech I will not fully regain…
Until I’ll get to meet you again
in the day ahead”***.
Well, bye for now. I'm waiting for your reply.
Did you like the poem? Does this really happen in such way?
Well, enough, I’m over.
Ljuda.
from novel WANDERER, book II