A selection of poems by Vyacheslav Ivanov
About the author
Vyacheslav Ivanov — Russian poet and publicist. A member of the Union of Russian writers. The author of the poetry collections "We are on Earth two" (2012) and "Wings" (2014). The winner of the literary prize "Fair Russia" "In search of truth and justice" in the nomination "Young poetry of Russia" (2016).
Born in 1982 in the city of Smolensk. He graduated from the Smolensk gymnasium them. M. N. Przewalski, and then the Smolensk branch of Moscow energy Institute. From 2013 to 2015 managed the youth literary Studio.
The winner of the poetry festival "Rubicon" (Smolensk, 2011) and inter-University literary forum "Hosea's word" to them. N. ENU (Moscow, 2013). Were published in literary magazines "Yunost" (2012, №1, 2016, №3) and "the Russian bell" (2015, No. 1-2) in the newspaper "Literary Russia" (2013, №10) and "Roman-Gazeta" (2017, No. 6).
Noted the Governor's scholarship "Young talents" (2013).
A selection of poems
***
Tenderness first snow
I conquered.
Not a single person
Under the lantern.
Only streams of snowflakes
In a bright spot.
How to fix error
I want you to.
If you understood,
If... Though
In the morning, some small,
Here passing,
Dirty tarpaulin will stomp out some...
Barbarian! You know,
How much it cost me nights
The white?
***
Slightly moving away from the station,
I didn't recognize in the window area,
But the conductor said to me,
The train rushes into the unknown.
And no fields and no isbook:
Like in the morning mist.
And I, like an abandoned child
Want to go back to my childhood, to my mother.
I was five when the evening
Came home the father in the spirit
And said that the mother "far away...",
Something like "her eyes went out",
That "became her shelter is the sky
Instead of our hut."
And, holding out a loaf of bread,
Hugged me and cried for a long time....
And the train rushes faster
Ringing the glass on a coaster.
But unless the tea will keep me warm...
And I, covering his face with his hands,
Entering with the car together in a tailspin,
Suddenly seeing the white house,
And hear a mother's whisper,
As if guilty of something.
And train – the arch of the old hospital,
Where the conductor – a doctor-an atheist.
And elusive echoes:
"Son, I'll see you, but later....".
***
When Sergei died of a binge,
Sent him a rusty Gazelle.
That morning on the roads of Urengoy
Snow-covered raging April.
The machine at the entrance North on the belly,
Not sad to continue the path
Helplessly howled like an old woman,
A neighbor came to remember.
And someone said: "Serge was joking!
With him forever befall a curiosity!".
And it was terrible to horror
In pointless wheel spin...
***
People are asked at the threshold.
- That bosom of yours?
- Hide the inner God
From cathedrals and churches.
He doesn't like gold
On the crosses and images.
And in my soul freedom
Settled, not fear.
- Where did you get it?
No matter
If faith is deep.
I found it once
In the snow outside the tavern.
It was February, and he was trembling all,
Looking into the icy darkness.
And it seemed to me, what a pity
Exhibit I to him,
But when I raised
Lit up all around!
For a moment I understood:
He is my closest friend!
- Believe in God?
- Believe it blindly!
And no matter of the day:
I carry it around the world,
Or he leads me.
***
We didn't talk to her about things
That are not purchased by us or us
In Italy, China and Vietnam,
And maybe some Islands,
About prices for tickets and gas
On the level of wages in the district school,
About the clubs, the cigarettes, the alcohol.
It all passed, thankfully.
We with her spoke about the soul,
The values of the Silver age,
About Brodsky and the meaning of man,
About the evils of stamps,
About music Mignoni and Cui,
About the strangeness of the paintings of Salvador
And painting of the classics, in which
So love, much love,
About the nature of religion, about dreams,
About the fragility and integrity of the world.
She never talked about things,
But he marries a banker.
***
In my house knocked on the door. I said, "come in."
The old man on the threshold, dressed in rags.
- Who are you? say.
- I'm your angel.
I heard a lot about all your troubles.
Get the hell outta here! Do not care that you're barefoot!
I do not serve any bread, nor water!
And he said, "Yes, come back, don't be afraid,
She will come running, it won't be six months".
I froze, stung by the left-hand side:
"How do you know about it, poor?
And he winked at me: "Poor God!
But God knows all our ways.
You mother often would call, and in fact,
It is not until the spring will make it two days.
And you have to somehow father to prepare
To ensure that he has not lost his mind.
First knees trembling I
Grabbed the man by the lapels, mad.
"You can't change, there's all the will of God
He wheezed softly through black teeth.
I sat down near the fireplace, poured him a drink
And the bread cut and the piece of pork.
He ate, slowly, and then wiped his hands
About black with a sheen of dirt leg.
And walked out the door, but I followed him shouted:
"I thought that angels do white!
And if you're an angel where are your wings?"
The old man smiled: "I gave them to you."
***
...And nights to Ivanov from Ivannikova
The cockroach came tarakana.
Smelled of honey and cinnamon, overdressed.
The halva will drag a piece, zaffirini.
Here I sit, chewing the clock vtihomolochku.
What will remain is Thrifty on the shelf.
Ivanov have suggested he stay her,
Left – escorted to the ventilation system.
Long thought, stirring moustache red,
And then in the closet I was hiding behind the ski
Near the jars with cucumbers and cabbage
All chitin alone in anticipation.
***
What to do with them? Decide for yourself
A young but notorious robber.
These lovely dolls have no soul.
Even slept in the furnace and you won't hurt them.
And when you grow up
Quietly I'll whisper in your ear:
"Doll with a human soul -
That is a very scary toy."
***
This woman I owe
All my emaciated past,
Ischemia, migraine, ulcers,
But I think its good.
I loved her before losing
The feeling of solid ground.
I could not believe
But I believe very.
I dropped like a stone,
In a blue transparency of the sea.
And their saved hands
The one that brought me grief.
I told
Secrets of the most Holy prayers.
To win the victory over himself
She was allowed without any battle.
I forgave her many sins,
Fancied himself, Christ, Buddha,
Because she said,
That lighter me - not.
***
My grandmother believes in God.
Cross over me always,
If me far on the road,
To me Doug.
On her Desk icon,
The icon of the mother of God.
Light streams into the window opening
On the bed,
And behind cupboard door
The book with the truth so simple.
My grandmother believes heart
Though drinking from it infusion.
Says: "a little Patience".
And poking me Testament – read!
My grandmother believes in God,
And I also almost.
***
How do they live? Yes, usually very
How a man should live.
Outside the window - hurry spring
The leaves are slowly falling into the river.
And so autumn melancholy
On the picture without a name.
Previously thought, from sorrow drinking,
But the disease won the consciousness.
Drink – don't laugh - this herb
And go to dinner in a Bathrobe.
And today, you guessing,
In the irretrievable past looking
Erased from the canvas of a nameless layer
This picture is different.
There in the field snowdrops in spring
Not birds flying flock.
***
Forest naked girls in the bath.
Smells of dried leaf.
Uncle Alex on accordion
Us plays "Waltz-Boston".
Aunt Valya Barack
Dry grey linen,
And the neighbor's dog
Begging my Apple.
Chase the ball Bear with Lyosha
In the alley through the mud.
The child wants a little,
May – God forbid!
***
- You get paid for poetry?
- Do not pay.
- Why write, if not for them pennies?
- Here You, why you bought this dress?
It to face.
- I poems to the soul.