“In a dream you wept bitterly” Kazakova in a brief summary
There was one of summer warm days…
My friend and I stood and talked near our house. You walked among us, among the flowers and grass that you had on your shoulders, and your face did not leave an indefinite half-smile, which I tried in vain to solve. Running through the bushes, the Spaniel Chif approached us sometimes. But for some reason you were afraid of Chif, hugging me by the knee, throwing back my head, peering into my face with blue eyes that reflected the sky and pronounced joyfully, gently, as if returning from afar: “Daddy!” And I experienced some kind of painful pleasure from touching your little hands. Random, your embrace, probably touched my friend, because he suddenly fell silent, ruffled your fluffy hair and contemplated you for a long time thoughtfully…
A friend shot himself in late autumn, when the first snow fell… How, when did this terrible persistent thought come into him? For a long time, probably… After all, he
But why, why? – I’m looking for and I do not find the answer. Really on each of us there is an unknown seal, determining the whole course of our future life? .. My soul wanders in the dark…
And then we were all still alive, and there was one of those summer days, which we remember through the years and which seem to us endless. After saying goodbye to me and ruffling your hair once more, my friend went to his house. And we took a big apple and went camping. Oh, what a long way to go – almost a kilometer! – and how many varied lives awaited us along this path: a small river, Yasnushka, was rolling by its waters; the squirrel jumped on branches; The bishop barked, finding the hedgehog, and we were looking at the hedgehog, and you wanted to touch it with your hand, but the hedgehog snorted, and you, having lost your balance, sat down on the moss; then we went out to the rotunda, and you said: “What a ba-ashnya!”; at the river you lay down on the root and started to look into the water: “Fish are swimming,” you told me in a minute; on your shoulder a mosquito sat down: “Komaik was eating…” – you said, wincing. I remembered about the apple, took it out of my pocket, wiped it to the shine and gave it to you. You took it with both hands and at once bit off, and the bite mark was like a squirrel… No, blessed, our world was beautiful.
It was time for your day’s sleep, and we went home. While I undressed you and pulled pajamas, you managed to remember everything that I saw that day. At the end of the conversation, you twice openly yawned. In my opinion, you managed to sleep before I left the room. I sat down by the window and thought: will you remember when this endless day and our journey? Is it possible that everything that we and you have experienced will be irretrievably lost? And I heard you cry. I went to you, thinking that you were awake and that you needed something. But you slept, picking up your knees. Your tears flowed so abundantly that the pillow quickly got wet. You sobbed with bitterness, with desperate hopelessness. As if mourning something, forever gone. What did you learn in life so that you cry so much in a dream? Or do we already in infancy mourn the soul, fearing the impending suffering? “Son, wake up, She looked at me with compassion, she said goodbye to me forever. And you were in that summer a year and a half. She looked at me with compassion, she said goodbye to me forever. And you were in that summer a year and a half.
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