Concentrating regiments against us, the enemy attacked a peaceful country. On the white night, the whitest night I started this terrible war.

On June 22, 1941, Germany crossed the borders of our country. The rate of advance of the troops was 30 km per day. The capture of the city of Leningrad was given a special place. The enemy wanted to capture the Baltic Sea coast and destroy the Baltic Fleet. The Germans quickly broke through to the city and from July they began to remove residents and factories located in the city from Leningrad.

Look at the map! If the land is drawn in brown, it means it was captured by the Nazis. A fascist swastika is drawn on the brown ground. And where the Red Army stands, red stars are painted.

THE BLOCKADE OF LENINGRAD lasted from September 8, 1941 to January 27, 1944 (broken on January 18, 1943) - 871 days.

The siege of Leningrad is an unheard of test of a person’s humanity, dignity, love for loved ones, compassion, and cordiality. These tests were daily, terrible, because it is generally impossible to imagine hunger without experiencing it...

At the time of the blockade, there were 2 million 544 thousand civilians in the city, including about 400 thousand children. In addition, 343 thousand people remained in suburban areas (in the blockade ring). In September, when systematic bombing, shelling and fires began, many thousands of families wanted to leave, but the routes were cut off.

Over 100 thousand high-explosive and incendiary bombs fell on Leningrad, the Nazis fired 150 thousand shells.

The enemies wanted to doom painful death as possible more people, survivors. And take the city with your bare hands.

All its residents rose to defend the city: 500 thousand Leningraders built defensive structures, 300 thousand volunteered to join the people's militia, to the front and to partisan detachments. militia fighters. women's rifle battalion.

The workshops of Leningrad factories were empty. Many workers went to the front. Their wives and children stood at the machines.

These days, a fourteen-year-old boy Fyodor Bykov wrote to his father at the front... “Dear dad! Now I don’t go to school, but work at a factory. We have a lot of guys in our workshop, we are learning how to work on the walls. Our master Uncle Sasha says that with our work we will help defend Leningrad from the damned fascists. And my mother works too, only in a different workshop where mines are made. Dear Dad! I am hungry all the time, and my mother is hungry all the time too. Because now they provide little bread, almost no meat at all, and no butter. Dear Dad! Beat the fascists! I remain your son, factory No. 5 worker Fyodor Bykov."

Children, along with adults, were starving and freezing in besieged Leningrad, extinguished incendiary bombs together with the soldiers, worked in factories - making shells. For their courage and courage they were awarded the medal “For the Defense of Leningrad” and the medal “Valiant Labor in the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945”.

November came and Ladoga began to gradually become covered in ice. By November 17, the ice thickness reached 100 mm, which was not enough to open traffic. Everyone was waiting for frost... Famine struck in Leningrad.

The monstrous famine, which claimed the lives of approximately a million Leningrad residents, is comparable to the worst humanitarian disasters of the 20th century.

Need is truly inventive. Soups were prepared from yeast, which were counted towards the grain allowance due on ration cards. A bowl of yeast soup was often the only meal of the day for many thousands of people. Jelly was made from the flesh of the skins of calfs (young calves) found in tanneries. The taste and smell of such jelly were extremely unpleasant, but who paid attention to this? Hunger suppressed all feelings. Over the years, layers of flour dust have accumulated on the walls and ceilings of mills. It was collected, processed and used as an additive to flour. They shook and knocked out every bag that once contained flour. The shakes and knockouts from the bags were sifted and immediately sent to the bakery. 18 thousand tons of bread surrogates were found, processed and eaten, not counting malt and oat flour. These were mainly barley and rye bran, cotton cake, mill dust, sprouted grain raised from the bottom of Lake Ladoga from sunken barges, rice hulls, corn sprouts, and knockouts from bags.

Take a closer look at these photographs and you will understand how Leningraders lived during the first blockade winter. Such notices hung in all bakeries in Leningrad.

The winter of 1942 was especially difficult: there were severe frosts, the water supply did not work, and it was difficult to get firewood. Water was taken directly from the Neva. Without water, without heat, without light, the day is like black night. Maybe there is no strength in the world to overcome all this.

Monument to the siege cats. In the winter of 1941 -1942, there were many rats in the city. They attacked half-starved and exhausted old people and children. By this time there were no cats or dogs left in the city - those who did not die or leave were eaten. Rats not only destroyed already meager food supplies, they were also potential carriers of plague. "December 3, 1941. Today we ate fried cat. “Very tasty,” a 10-year-old boy wrote in his diary. Nevertheless, some townspeople, despite the severe hunger, took pity on their pets.

“In the spring of 1942, an old woman, half dead from hunger, took her cat outside for a walk. People came up to her and thanked her for saving him.” “In March 1942, I suddenly saw a skinny cat on a city street. Several old women stood around it and crossed themselves, and an emaciated, skeleton-like policeman made sure that no one caught the animal.” “In April 1942, walking past the Barrikada cinema, I saw a crowd of people at the window of one of the houses. They marveled at an extraordinary sight: a tabby cat with three kittens was lying on a brightly lit window sill. Seeing her, I realized that we had survived.” .

This is how they buried Leningraders who died from hunger or were killed during the bombing. There was no one to make coffins, and there were no cars to take them to the cemetery. The corpses were piled in certain places and taken to the cemetery.

Blockade…. Far as this word is from our peaceful bright days. I say it and see again - Hungry dying children. Children, crying, asked for bread, There is no worse torture than this. The gates of Leningrad were not opened and they did not go out to the city wall. How entire neighborhoods were deserted, And how trams froze on the tracks, And mothers who were unable to carry Their children to the cemetery.

This girl lived in besieged Leningrad. She kept her diary in her student notebook. Tanya died during the war, Tanya is alive in memory: Holding her breath for a moment, The world hears her words: “Zhenya died on December 28 at 12:30 in the morning of 1941. Grandmother died on January 25 at 3 pm 1942. . “And in the night the sharp light of searchlights pierces the sky. There is not a crumb of bread at home, You will not find a log of firewood. The smokehouse will not keep you warm. The pencil trembles in your hand, But it makes your heart bleed. In the secret diary: Leka died on March 12 at 8 a.m. 1942. Uncle Vasya died on April 13 at 2 p.m. 1942."

The gun storm has died down and died down, Only memory every now and then Looks intently into the eyes. Birch trees stretch towards the sun, grass breaks through, and on the mournful Piskarevsky the words suddenly stop: “Uncle Lyosha died on May 10 at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, 1942. Mom - May 13 at 7:30 am in 1942." Our planet's heart beats loudly like an alarm bell. Do not forget the land of Auschwitz, Buchenwald and Leningrad. Welcome to the bright day, people, People, listen to the diary: It sounds stronger than the guns, That silent child's cry: “The Savichevs are dead. Everyone died. There’s only Tanya left!”

The notebook was left open on the desk, They didn’t get a chance to finish it, to finish reading it. When high explosive bombs and famine hit the city. And you and I will never forget, How our peers took the fight. They were only 12, but they were Leningraders. But schools continued to operate. It was cold in the classrooms. There were potbelly stoves everywhere. Everyone was sitting in fur coats, hats and mittens. They wrote on old newspapers with pencils. The ink froze in the cold. And after school, the children went to the roof and were on duty there, extinguishing incendiary bombs or working in the hospital.

Food in Leningrad has run out. What to feed them? Far beyond the blockade ring there is food - flour, meat, butter. How to deliver them? Only one road connected the besieged city with the mainland. This road ran on water. She is like a legend, like a song, like a banner, This road will have no end - it will forever run through memory, forever pass through our hearts.

Road workers measured the thickness of the ice on the entire lake every day, but were unable to speed up its growth. On November 20, the ice thickness reached 180 mm. Horse-drawn carts came out onto the ice, and then trucks with food...

Brave warriors and car drivers died on Ladoga, saving Leningraders from starvation. But the road worked. And already on December 25 they announced the first increase in bread.

Only military highway, laid on the ice of Lake Ladoga, helped people survive. Not far from the highway, camouflaged anti-aircraft installations, wire and mine barriers to protect the road from fascist soldiers. Not all cars made it to the shore; many fell through the ice along with their food. Bread to Leningrad, and children to the rear.

Leningraders lie here. The townspeople here are men, women, children. Next to them are Red Army soldiers. With all their lives they defended you, Leningrad, the Cradle of the Revolution. We cannot list their noble names here, There are so many of them under the eternal protection of granite. But know, heeding these stones, No one is forgotten, and nothing is forgotten. Olga Berggolts.

1/52 ⠀ The year flows like a ball or kolobok from one decade to another. ⠀ The kids dismantled the Christmas tree, or rather removed all the decorations from it, and prepared for a trip to the dacha to plant it. They take care of it every day, water it and collect fallen needles. ⠀ We celebrated the New Year fun and, as always, interesting. Grandfather Frost and Klepa the Clown came, and the children themselves were in costumes, which were changed several times a day. And even the youngest staff went to bed by four in the morning, and at the insistence of the adults, because by this time they had already wanted to sleep for a long time. This New Year's Eve, we found out that plastic toys also break well, especially if they are used as balls. Found out so well that next holiday I need to replenish my toy collection. ⠀ Children enjoy going to New Year's performances, watching performances and receiving sweet gifts, which they bring home and unpack with the whole family. Having visited the Kremlin Christmas tree, the main Christmas tree in St. Petersburg at the Mariinsky Palace, and the city’s theaters, they, like real theatergoers, draw conclusions about the performances and actors they liked. ⠀ “And I want to perform on stage the same way,” says Lyubasha while watching another of the performances. She's four. When she knows so firmly what she wants, I look carefully into her eyes to see my little baby in them. At the same time, she often distorts her already elven language in order to be small like Vovochka. Yes, now she doesn’t want to grow up, but wants to be a baby. From time to time. ⠀ Vovochka misses performances while staying at home. And although many of his peers try to sit and watch what is happening, it seems to me that it is better at home. ⠀ Leo is happy to participate in interactive activities before the performance. When you have a top in your butt, the most beautiful thing is dancing and playing near the tree, although the interesting action captivates him completely. And then he happily tells me about what he saw. ⠀ The main thing that kids like most about the holidays is the lack of need to go to kindergarten. It seems that each of them feels good there and, according to the teachers, is perfectly adapted, but sometimes our evenings pass in tears about tomorrow’s unwanted trip to this unloved institution. Moreover, each of them wants to be at home with mommy or go to work with her, but it doesn’t matter where mommy goes, just to be with her. And now dad also has more days off. So the first week of January pleases everyone with the opportunity to be together. Of course, it makes me especially happy. I love when children are happy and I don’t want them to cry at all, especially about the garden. ⠀ And together with Vovochka we sing his favorite song “Lyabo! Lyabo!”, which translated into Russian means “I am a bun!” I’m a bun!” and, rolling around the house with balls, we look forward to each next day bringing us happiness and joy. ⠀

Lobnya - Mytishchensky district, the extreme point of the advance of Nazi troops in the Dmitrov direction. The Nazis were stopped here! In December 1941, the attacking German tanks anti-aircraft gunners stopped here, holding the line of defense for three days. Near the village of Kiev there is a monument - an anti-aircraft gun; in the city there are monuments on mass graves, a museum of military glory. The film “At Your Doorstep” was shot about the events in the Lobnya area.

During the Battle of Moscow during the Great Patriotic War, fierce battles with the enemy were fought in the Lobnya area. The village of Krasnaya Polyana, now part of the city, became known as the point where the enemy came closest to the capital.

The liberation of Krasnaya Polyana is considered a turning point in the battle for Moscow. From the history of the city of Lobnya. In the gazetteer about this small town can be read; that Lobnya is a city of regional subordination in the Moscow region of Russia, located 27 km north of Moscow. At first Lobnya was a station village, and since 1961 it has been a city. The city of Lobnya during the Great Patriotic War, or rather not yet a city, but the village of Lobnya. This town was the closest line of defense of the city of Moscow, beyond which German tanks could not break through. The courageous defenders of the homeland held back the tanks for several hours with the help of an anti-aircraft gun.

Recently, on May 9, a new monument was erected - “Belfry”, it was erected in honor of all the soldiers of our city. Every year on December 5, a rally is held at this place in memory of the beginning of the Counter-Offensive near Moscow, and before this event, Lobny residents lay flowers on the mass graves of Soviet defenders and memorial signs dedicated to the Great Patriotic War.

Also on the territory of the city there is a nature reserve - Lake Kiev. It became a reserve in 1927, thanks to a detachment of young natists who discovered a settlement of rare gulls - black-headed gulls - on the lake.

I'll run up the hill and fall into the grass.
And suddenly there will be a breath of antiquity from the valley!
I love your old Russia,
Your forests, graveyards and prayers,
I love your huts and flowers,
And the skies burning with heat,
And the whisper of willows by the muddy waters,
I love you forever, until eternal peace...

The villages of Krasnaya Polyana and Lobnya entered the history of the Great Patriotic War. First, the party organization of the Krasnopolyansk factory mobilized the entire team to reorganize work to wartime conditions. With the approach of the front, in August 1941. workers were sent to dig anti-tank ditches along the canal. Moscow in the area of ​​Khlebnikogo and Vodniki stations. In October, dismantling of the factory equipment began for evacuation to Kazakhstan. Lobnya was defended by units of the second Moscow Communist Militia Division until November 30, 1941. Then it was replaced by units of the 331st Bryansk Proletarian Rifle Division. Units of the 28th Rifle Brigade defended in the Chashnikovo-Katyushka area. Units of the 64th Marine Rifle Brigade fought in the area of ​​the Lobnensky depot.


On November 30, the Nazis captured the village of Krasnaya Polyana and installed long-range guns here to bombard Moscow. The soldiers of the 16th Army under the command of Rokossovsky destroyed these guns. On December 1, two columns of enemy tanks began an attack on Kiev from the area of ​​the village of Gorki. The attack was repulsed by artillery fire and other anti-tank weapons and the enemy was thrown back to the village of Gorki. Hitler's command, having brought fresh forces into the area, launched a new tank attack on December 3. More than 20 enemy tanks moved towards the anti-aircraft gunners’ positions, but Soviet troops went on a counter-offensive in this area and again drove back enemy units, leaving fascist tanks 20 km from Moscow. By dawn on December 8, Krasnaya Polyana was liberated from the invaders. The Nazis destroyed the buildings of the village, the club, the school, and took out the power plant and water supply system.

Restoration work began at the factory and in the residential village. In the spring of 1942, some of the equipment was put into operation. But due to a lack of fuel and a couple of worn-out machines, at the end of 1942 the factory stopped working. To retain workers, they organized a workshop for sewing children's and women's tights from hosiery raw materials, which came from knitting factories. Some of the workers were sent to peat mining, collecting firewood, and clearing rubble from destroyed walls and factory buildings. In the summer of 1943, work began on installing the power line. With its commissioning, the factory began work again, and already in 1944 it produced 637.7 tons of yarn. In March 1945, the factory team, as the winner in the socialist competition, was awarded a challenge Red Banner State Committee Defense.

Even in the morning black smoke billows
Over your ruined home.
And the charred bird falls,
Overtaken by mad fire.

Another war. But we stubbornly believe
What day will happen - we will drink the pain to the dregs.
The wide world will open its doors to us again,
With the new dawn there will be silence.

In Lobnya they sacredly honor the memory of those who gave their lives for native land. A monument was erected at the mass grave of soldiers who died in the battles for the liberation of Krasnaya Polyana. The monument was also erected at the mass grave of the Krasnopolyansk factory workers who died during its shelling.

To mark the 25th anniversary of the defeat of Nazi Germany, an obelisk of Glory was erected in Lobnya. At the line where the defense line ran and where the anti-aircraft gunners of the Moscow Air Defense Zone blocked the path of fascist tanks, an anti-aircraft gun was installed as a monument. The monument was built on the initiative of teachers and students of the Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology. As a result of the Klin-Solnechnogorsk defensive operation, the Soviet command gained time to concentrate strategic reserves in the Moscow direction and provided the necessary conditions for launching a decisive offensive.

I don't have a gun
I don't have a knife
My tight bow is lost.
I haven't sharpened arrows for a long time -
I don’t want to kill either a bird or an evil beast.
But he will swing if
Someone to my truth -
I'll cut this one off with a song,
I'll kill him with a word.

During the Great Patriotic War, V. Shefner was an ordinary soldier in the airfield service battalion. This is how the war and the siege of Leningrad entered his poetry. In the book "Defense" war is the only all-consuming theme. What he experienced during the war forever remained very important for the poet and became the highest measure of all his searches, creative and moral.

Poem “We Believe in Victory!” was written by V. Shefner at the very beginning of the war, June 23, 1941, in Leningrad.

The poem is imbued with journalistic pathos; we can attribute it to patriotic lyrics. It is built on the basis of an antithesis. At the beginning we see the contrast between “enemy” and “peaceful country”, “white night” and “black war”. Here the poet uses a characteristic epithet (“black war”), which means: unjust, unfair, aggressive, bringing death, grief, and suffering to people. Then the situation reaches its logical conclusion: the enemy who started this war will be justly punished:

Whether he wants it or not,

And he will get his from the war:

Soon even days, not just nights,

They will become, will become black for him!

The poem is an eight-line poem with cross rhyme. The poet uses modest means of artistic expression: epithet (“white night”, “black war”), metaphor and lexical repetition (“Soon even the days, not only the nights, will become black for him!”).

WE BELIEVE IN VICTORY

The regiments are concentrated against us,
The enemy attacked a peaceful country.
White night, the whitest night
Started this black war!

Whether he wants it or not,
And he will get his from the war:
Soon even days, not just nights,
They will become, will become black for him!

Don't dance today, don't sing.
In the late afternoon pensive hour
Stand silently by the windows,
Remember those who died for us.

There, in the crowd, among loved ones, lovers,
Among cheerful and strong guys,
Someone's shadows in green caps
They silently rush to the outskirts.

They cannot linger, stay -
This day takes them forever,
On the tracks of marshalling yards
The trains are blowing their whistle for separation.

Hailing them and calling them is in vain,
They won't say a word in response,
But with a sad and clear smile
Look closely after them.

COURTYARD WALLS
1

I'll look into a familiar yard,
Like a forgotten dream.
I haven't been here for a long time
From young times.

Over woodpiles
Along a damp wall
Maps of fairy worlds
Captured.

These walls have been for many years
They keep it on themselves
What the prospectus forgot about
And I forgot the façade.

Signs of happiness and misfortune,
Memory of long ago -
Traces of children's balls
And the bombing trail.

Leningrad courtyards,
Forty-first year
Bachelor's feasts,
The creaking of the night gate.

But they call for a megaphone,
Trains are blowing -
Isn't it time to leave the yard?
To the district military registration and enlistment office!

What's crying at the gate?
Is the girl alone?
- Believe me, a year will not pass -
The war will end.

How will I return in a year -
Look out the window

We will come with victory
In that an old house,
Let's get gramophones,
Let's go get some wine.

Hello courtyard, goodbye war.
Forty-fifth year.
Just what's at the window
The girl isn't waiting?

Someone's room in the darkness
And the door is closed.

You have it all over the earth
You won't find it now.

Maps of fairy planets
They look from the wall -
But there is a trace of fragments on them,
Cuneiform of war.

An old courtyard, a forgotten dream,
Swallow flight,
There's a tape recorder on the window
Sings about love.

Over woodpiles
Protected by the wall
Cards ghost worlds,
Showers of writing.

And flows into the old courtyard
Early evening light...
Everything is as it has been for a long time,
But someone is missing.

Someone's light steps
Lost the trail
On distant shores
Fairytale planets.

Among the unknown meadows,
In eternal silence...

Shadows of light clouds
Dancing on the wall.
1963

MIRROR

Like the blow of a terrible ram
Half of the house here has been demolished,
And in the clouds of frosty fog
The charred wall rises.

They still remember the torn wallpaper
About the old life, peaceful and simple,
But the doors of all the collapsed rooms,
Opened, they hang over the void.

And let me forget everything else -
I can’t forget how, trembling in the wind,
A wall mirror hangs over the abyss
At the height of the sixth floor.

By some miracle it didn't break.
People were killed, walls were swept away, -
It hangs, fate's blind mercy,
Over the abyss of sadness and war.

Witness of pre-war comfort,
On a damp corroded wall
Warmth of breath and someone's smile
It is stored in glass depths.

Where did she go, unknown?
Or wanders along the roads
The girl who looked deep into him
And she braided her hair in front of him?..

Perhaps this mirror has seen
Her last moment when she
Chaos of fragments of stone and metal,
Falling down, he threw him into oblivion.

Now it looks like day and night
The face of a fierce war.
There are lightning gunshots in it
And alarming glows are visible.

Now the dampness of the night is choking him,
The fires are blinding with smoke and fire.
But everything will pass. And, no matter what happens, -
The enemy will never be reflected in him!

1942, Leningrad

PARTING

A fragment will hit under the left nipple,
The grass will turn red in the ditch...
I will cut my fingers on the stems of sedges,
I'll live a minute longer.

A film of unprecedented length will unfold.
Filmed over many years...
And childhood, and youth, and meetings, and dreams -
There are so many shots there!

Partings, roads, smiles, houses,
Your own and others' sins...
What operator has gone crazy?
Was this guy filming nonsense?

But houses and bridges will fall into place,
Bugs and maples in bloom,
When you appear on the screen
An influx of all the fuss.

You will stand by the blue brooding rivers,
In the fields dressed in spring,
So sad, as if forever
She came to leave me.

I'll shout to you: “Darling, wait,
It's not time to say goodbye yet -
Call out to the orderlies, even with a simple thread
Let the doctors sew up the heart.

I wish I could live at least an hour, even a short day -
I don't want darkness so much.
After all, I couldn’t stop looking at you,
Why are you saying goodbye?..”
1944

HOUSE OF CULTURE

Here, in this House of Culture
There was a hospital in forty-two.
My friend, emaciated and gloomy,
He lay damp in the twilight.

The smokehouses in the hall were blinking,
The stove was smoking in the corner,
And the beds stood in rows
On this parquet floor.

I left a dark building
On the snow of the Leningrad winter,
But I knew that we would not meet.

I said "goodbye" to my friend
And now, many years later
I enter this very building,
Having bought a ticket for fifty dollars.

Shaking snowflakes off your coat,
I enter the mirrored door.
Not caustic carbolic acid - perfume
It smells festive here now.

Where the beds once stood,
Where the unknown soldier died
Along smooth oak squares
Couples in love glide.

Only me, not in love with anyone,
I'm walking down the hall,
And a cloud of reinforced concrete
The ceiling is floating above me.

With what sudden power
Sometimes it touches your heart
Confirmed by strangers' happiness
Someone's old problem!
1962

A shell hit Kirk Muol
To the regiment's headquarters dugout.
They found us out. Three lie dead
And I'm only slightly shell-shocked.

Luck. Since then I have lived and lived
Healthy and durable looking.
But what if all this is not in reality,
Was it me who was killed?

What if now the surviving neighbor
I'm being dragged along in a drag
And I dream my dream, lucky delirium
About twenty years in the future?

A comrade will stumble in the sharp wind,
Swamp water clacks, -
And I suddenly wake up from a jolt and die,
And then everything will end.

REVISION FROM VUOTTA

Retreat from Vuotta,
Burning houses...
Sat on the ground without a care
A man gone mad.
The world wasn't worth his attention
And fear faded away forever,
And a smile of understanding
On his lips wandered.
He was silent, like a silent Buddha,
Throwing all doubts to the bottom, -
It was very bad for us
And he doesn’t care anymore.
I felt sorry for that man
On the night of the departed until dark, -
He was neither dead nor crippled,
Only the war took my soul.

RETIRED

Infantry barber
Addicted to wine.
He's not very willing
Remembers the war.

And he has the right to be proud,
And peace is deserved, -
Only God forbid
From work like this.

Oh, so many haircuts!
He cut his hair like a clockwork one,
Not boxing, not polka, -
Everything is below zero and below zero.

It worked great
I understood what was happening -
But not everyone is secondary
Could have come to him.

Ah, infantry, infantry -
Construction material!..
On the hills, in the swamps
He was losing clients.

Apparently Polish-Canadian
Not for these guys, -
Underground in raincoats
They have been sleeping for twenty years.

I'm kind of sad today,
Pour it for me, pour it for me!..
Ah, infantry, infantry,
Queen of the fields!

WATCHMAN

What remains of the house is the stove,
Yes, there is a black pipe above it,
Yes, a lonely porch
Made from roughly hewn stones.

The yard is overgrown with wild mint,
And yet on that porch
The shaggy dog ​​sits as before
And guards the burnt house.

During the day he is in the forest or in the swamp
He lives by hunting somehow,
But by nightfall you will always find here
Him looking into the darkness.

After all, he himself probably understood
That no one will wait
But he remembers warm palms
And a voice calling to him.

And at night - from the windbreak,
From the darkness of the forest, from the damp darkness
Someone's step, light and familiar,
He imagines it sometimes.

Silent, lonely and offended,
Willows twisted trunk,
An abandoned pond is motionless
And thick, like a strong brine.

Sometimes, like a sleepy miracle,
From the darkness of grass, water
The frog floats up lazily
Shining cucumber back.

But the boy came with a twig -
And there is no silence on the pond;
Here is a helmet covered with mud,
He fished it out from the depths.

Without sadness, without any care,
A mischievous smile shining,
He takes the Soviet infantry
Heavy headdress.

He will scoop up water busily -
And listens like water
Flows from a broken helmet
On the smooth surface of the pond.

About the kind cloudless sky,
About days without loss and adversity,
Trembling like a silver stalk,
This stream sings to him.

Sings to him leisurely
About how quiet everything is around,
Sings about happy June,
And for me about something else, about something else...

RELEASE OF BIRDS

In an apartment with one communal service,
Among other registered persons,
An old and sad man lives
A weirdo releasing birds.

Neighbors at the market often
They meet that eccentric -
With a big homemade cage
He is standing at the zoo.

From my poor salary
Will buy siskins and tits
And he goes somewhere out of town
A weirdo releasing birds.

They float past the carriage windows
Gardens and asphalt of motorways;
On the site of burned villages
Others are no worse.

The country pines are swaying,
And the rivers are transparent to the bottom,
And even through the rumble of the wheels
Earthly silence is heard.

And yet the soul is not in the right place,
And there is no joy in silence:
Missing, missing, missing
His son disappeared in the war.

And here is the nondescript stop
At the junction of rocky roads...
In a swampy place, not a dacha,
The line of defense has been drawn.

This is not the first time the old man will find
Infantry division rear,
Where did the wild flowers grow?
On the mounds of mass graves.

But where can I lay my eyes on him?
Where should his heart go?
Where can I find the hill above which
Could he cry to his heart's content?..

He takes the rag off the cage,
Then he opens it, -
The subdued birds are silent
And they don’t believe in their own happiness.

But the wings are light and elastic,
And joy grows on the fly -
In some kind of happy fright
They soar high.

Flying over the green land,
They fly without roads and borders,
And looks at them tenderly
Old man releasing birds.

When things get tough for me -
I read in the silence of the night
Letter from an unforgotten friend
Who was killed in the war.

I read dry as gunpowder
Ordinary words
Uneven lines in which
Until now, hope is alive.

And everything is hasty, evil
It becomes silent, subsides within me.
The past comes to the soul,
Like in a sad sublime dream.

This whole world, eternal and new,
I see - as if from a mountain,
And again the postal triangle
I put it in the box for the time being.

***
Look back for a moment -
What's behind us?
There are swallows hovering there
Over an old brick wall
There are children's quarrels,
Happiest days series,
There are clear eyes, -
Nobody will let us go there.

Let's just look for a moment -
What were we like in the past?
Early in the morning there
We walk along the path together.
We're both beautiful
(When viewed from current years) -
And both have no power