Autor: by Alexander Fainberg
Authorized translation: by Sergei Zubkov
Illustrations: by Leyla Basharova
Did not they say that present-day deserts used to be seas’ bottoms and oceans’ depths millenniums ago – seas and oceans unknown to us? Why not contemplate that once, in time immemorial, axis of equator had changed its position in space? And what is hidden there at present – what mysteries are there in boundless depths? And what would happen to us living today and cherishing hopes for future great happiness?
Happiness is happiness. All human beings have their own separate different happiness, luck or fortune – whatever one prefers. But always are full of love and light reflected in arts types of happiness! Even in tragedies. Such are waves carrying Shakespeare’s Hamlet away to exile. Such are irate crests of waves in The Sea Sonatas by Churljenys. They – the waves – are everywhere for water is part and parcel of animate nature – soul of every living thing – all flesh, man and beast. Therefore any kind of arts cannot do without water. Either purposefully or independently of each other Creators of the World and their followers in all human cultures worship water. Some of them dip into water with delight; others come to water with repentance to purify their souls. Not to mention the rite of christening. Don’t I dare to touch upon it?! I only mean music, painting, and poetry. Water, water – wherever one goes…Tropical cloud-bursts, snow blizzards, seven-color rainbows. And why there is absence of water in R. Kipling’s the “Great Dry Spell”. Throat gets parched when I read verses by this outstanding romanticist and once again sense his great dry spell. And once again the lines emerge:
Let fishermen cast down their seines,
A drunkard drink, a blockhead strive
Look up! The treble clef’s soaring
To make the music raining down
to water flowers.
It has poured down…Do you sense it? The music has poured on us – like longed for reviving water for our souls among suddenly sprung up hot dry winds.
Sea waves dandled a yacht with a sail set
Lazy waves are tapping sandy seaside.
A woman beautiful and attractively naked
is strolling in her morning promenade.
Back in Moscow a year ago she
Hopeless life – no shelter, no work –
in a reckless race,
When suddenly a rich Arab guy
Bought and brought her to Mediterranean
for just in case.
Moscow blizzard is throwing snow
At night bars’ windows and bright
Downtown ladies here – shivering with cold,
Try to survive their stampede from
So far, clinging to Moscow in a death grip,
They share its drunken feasts and brigandage.
A dolphin’s playing in the Mediterranean sea
A young lady’s strolling along the beach.
She has forgiven, forgot her grief
Remaining calm, not pondering over her fate
A cockleshell is in the hand, she hears
And sees the prince of the childhood
You would never pull in to these
far away shores
Neither gold nor power could ever
You’ve curbed the waves fawning
And who knows what happiness is? Who
could tell you?
Who could tell you, really? Where is the answer? Is it in the Mediterranean Sea, in the Black or Japanese sea?
It is the eternal mystery of Her Majesty Water; and The Queen of Life may reveal her secret to us – but only then when we are eager, when we learn to listen to whisper of waves’ crests and comprehend them or… well, just simply to meditate upon ripples on water generated by a leaf fallen from a waterside tree.
When you are young the world seems to be open wide and infinite. With passing years a lot of changes occur: – other impulses, revised values, newly born affections, different desires. Incredible are the ways of Destiny.