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Sergey Young
3
THE PERSON OF ROAD
All has begun with shout of the raven sitting on a signpost. But
It is possible to tell and so: all has ended with shout of the raven sitting on a column.
It entirely depends on the point of view what to consider as a life and that
To consider as death. At Lippi there was no point of view. He has not managed at all
To understand, when was the PRESENT – to or after a meeting with a black bird.
Lippi has heard hoarse «penalties-r!» At itself over a head also has struck on
To brakes. It since the childhood differed thin hearing. In the course of time its hearing became
The phenomenal. Sometimes he distinguished, as angels whisper behind backs
Doomed and incurably sick. Its own angel, similar, has been covered
Brilliant feathers, had wings, a powerful long beak and preotvratnejshy
Voice... But all angels different. One which Lippi has dreamt, has seemed
To it huge and similar to Freedom Statue.
In the car the tape recorder has been switched on, and James Solberg insisted on that,
That its tomb is still empty. Lippi it was pleasant to hear it. That you will not tell about
Shout which was stuck by a rusty ramrod into sensitive ears, but has not cleaned
Brains.
Shout has repeated still twice before Lippi has got out from "dodzha"
Also has affirmed on dusty road, kneading the become numb waist. Its skin of the old
Boot it was similar to the cracked asphalt. Round them twisted
Small yellow tornadoes... Standing in the middle of deserted plain, Lippi suddenly
Has imagined itself one more column which is propping up the heavy sky, – except those,
Which were built along road. Anyway, on it something pressed.
Oh this weight on shoulders and inside... Who can relieve of it?
And the more clouds bulk up sunset blood, the more hard a burden. In addition
The train of night rushes towards: hours – cars, minutes – windows, seconds –
Darkness in them. In this train go sleeping which somewhere have a house, and
Safely come on station "morning"; the same train ruthlessly presses
Those who was late on moving...
Lippi has looked at a long chain of columns. The broken crosses.
Deficiency. The torn off wires on which the current will not begin to flow any more, bearing the good
News and awful messages. The broken lanterns. There is no light, there is no communication, no
Illusive voices. The place that is necessary...
It has lifted a head to see a bird-prophet, a bird-damnation,
Bird-prevention. The raven sitting on a column, was allocated with a black stain on
Background of the violet sky – proud, neutral, lost forever. A symbol
The unquenchable thirst, offering to get drunk from the poisoned source.
Lippi has suddenly felt deep relationship with this feathery the tramp,
Stealing rest and pleasure. It liked ravens; to it liked run wild
Dogs and whores who were given to all and did not belong to anybody. Sometimes it and
Itself felt the whore, ready to sell soul for a kind word. More precisely,
For the necessary word. For the main word. For it is unique correct, DEFINITIVE
Word...
And here he has heard a word of a bird. One short word, which, glory
To the god, meant nothing in usual human language.
The raven talked to it. To a raven any more to whom was to talk
In this hopeless desert.
Lippi has estimated the attention shown to it. It stood, having lifted up a head
And having concealed breath, also listened to the sentence. Absorbed poison – or a medicine.
What did the devil's bird promise to it? Perhaps, a fast meeting with death? And
The road tape tried to keep step horizon, to a point of merge of accident and
Predeterminations, and somewhere there, behind a far low hill...
What exactly? A precipice in which it will fail? Powerful trak, which
Will crush it "dodzh", how an egg shell? Or it is simple four with pistols
And knifes which help the lost the way odd fellows like Lippi to find
The shortest way "home"? All the same melodrama. He has noted in itself(himself)
Deep-rooted desire to embellish if not vegetation, then destruction.
Still: it seems, that is beautiful to die much easier...
Not important. Only the prophecy now mattered. Minute
Revelations. Direct short conversation with the manager of destinies. Payment – in
The credit or cash time. Lippi arranged any variant. It never
About what did not regret.
... The Raven has become silent. In twilight not to make out – whether it has stared
On the person, whether simply for something waited. Silence was long and
The significant. The evening silence fell from heavens, as a mask
The anaesthesiologist...
– Penalties-r-r!!! – has shouted Lippi and has wildly laughed loudly.
The raven has broken from a column and, hard waving wings, has departed
In the same party where went Lippi. An old raven. And on it pressed
The sky... Minute – and it has thawn in a twilight haze.
And the person has suddenly thought: that, if among ravens there is a legend
About the restless stranger in the red car, a meeting with which on the deserted
To road foretells the bird's trouble and promises more than a muffled hint?
After uncertain time it has sat down for a wheel, has switched on headlights and has rushed off
Forward, ripping up a reliable metal shell condensed darkness.
The hill was further and was above, than it seemed, and behind it Lippi the death waited.
Driving on top, he has heard a deaf sound of blow of any small
Subject about radiatornuju a lattice, and then on a cowl the black feather has slipped
Also has stuck to a windscreen. Lippi did not begin to clean it. Let will be – on
Memory of the unique friend...
The death voted on a roadside. Frozen, pale, emaciated
The woman without age. Lippi has taken pity over it and has stopped. It has sat down in it
The car also has hardly squeezed out from itself a grateful smile. At it were thin
Terrible bloodless lips, huge white wrinkled forehead Mobi Dika and eyes,
As continuous black balls...
Lippi would prefer more talkative and less cold companion,
But it is better such, than any. He has allowed to it to take a sip vodka directly from a neck
Flasks, has taken a mouthful itself to be warmed, and has offered the lady a cigarette. They
Have lighted from one match and became little bit closer each other. Here only
Hunger... It could not satisfy its hunger. Neither behind this hill, nor behind the following...
* * *
They long rushed through night. Headlights rushed forth sheaves of light,
As if return tails of the comets-twins leaving from the sun, which not
It allowed to leave the orbits. Around – boundless plain, but road one...
On air there was no neither voices, nor a music – only a crash atmospheric
Categories. When Lippi has switched on the tape recorder, from dinamikov the silent crunch has reached,
As if caterpillars devoured fresh foliage... He has looked at the woman sitting
Nearby, but that was all the same.
Lippi has chosen silence which was underlined only by a measured roar of the engine
And a rustle of tyres, and soon time has stopped. A minute hand of a watch
Did not move. Arrows of a speedometer and the level index have in the same way stood
Gasoline. Any inexplicably Lippi has felt, that the old age has pulled out
From it the claws. Egyptian vultures, devourers fell, have found to itself another
Extraction. But it did not deliver it pleasure...
Only memoirs make focuses in due course. And even
Tricks of illusionists are possible. Lippi has decided, that has got to a memory zone. It still
Remembered, that once this road was absolutely another. Pure, recovered,
Brightly shined even in the most dark night, direct as an arrow. Car Lippi
Flied on it, penetrating a youth and a youth, not stopping on
Crossroads of defect and not turning off on rolling in a dirt proselki a sin.
Over it artificial false stars of happiness shone. Along road blossomed
Gardens – in their fragrance Lippi came off the earth and soared, as if a bird.
Black bird... It went with the girl whom liked, and, apparently, she answered
To it reciprocity. Since then Lippi has acquired, that with women in what it is impossible
To be assured. But then he did not know doubts. And to miss it was not necessary.
Along road there was a set of motels: "Hope", «In a happy way»,
«A cosy corner», «the Evening star»... They stopped in any, on
Choice, also drank easy wine, and danced under hoarse music, and were engaged
Love...
But all has passed.
Time was put in motion, and now seconds responded
Blows of growing cold heart of a reptile. Blood turned to bitumen; in it
Have co-ordinated and died birds of temptations...
Also there was thrown a motel under the name "Emptiness", and nearby –
Filling station. Zapravshchikom the beautiful grey-haired young man worked with
Impenetrable eyes. Him called Agasfer, and on sign Lippi it has filled in
The full tank of top-quality melancholy, but did not take for it not a stiver.
Agasfer talked in a classic language which Lippi knew very much
Badly. To this language anywhere did not learn, very few people owned it in perfection.
Perhaps, to find the dictionary it would appear an excessive problem. But since
Some moment, all inscriptions on guide signs, publicity boards
Emigratory bureaus and even the name of bars have been executed on the dead
Language.
When Lippi has asked, being confused in words, «how much miles remain to
Mornings and whether soon there will come the following refuelling », Agasfer has answered, that morning not
Will come never but if to go very-very long on a line outcast,
Eventually it will appear in motel "Despair". There there is nobody to welcome visitors,
There is no fuel for cars and there is no even a vodka for interested persons to be forgotten, and in baths,
Filled with a crimson liquid, suicides float...
Lippi the young man politely has offered it a place in "dodzhe", but
Has refused, having told, that prefers to be seeing off, instead of seen off.
All the same it has liked Lippi, and they have drunk the beer, which taste for a long time
Has exhausted also which too it was possible. The pale woman silently waited in
To the car. It had an infinite patience... Then Agasfer has returned to the dark
The little shop near refuelling also has switched on the old musical automatic machine.
Lippi has sailed away under sounds of a familiar song. James Solberg complained
On that its tomb while is empty. Lippi did not know, how to it to help.
* * *
... Since then there is no for it either a life, or a death. It rushes in measurement
sumjatits and a sincere cold also is only to singles on their deserted
Ways. Its elements – a penetrating wind blowing in night, and rassvetnye fogs
Oblivion. Its voice – stylyj whisper of unrealizable hopes and vain promises.
He has learnt star routes and songs of phantoms. Its shade trembles for streams
Spring rains also flashes on a disk of the winter moon. It escapes the idle
Fans of cheap romanticism and the enamoured couples, wishing to tickle the friend
To the friend nerves jealousy and a hint on the opened veins... It artful last
The lover of the thrown women, and it – an urn for ashes of the broken hearts.
Inconsolable he invites to take part in an orgy, and its pale girlfriend
Disappoints nobody. Anyway, still nobody complained... It
The wanderer selling shrouds and chafing old wounds. It destroys illusions and
Gives a consolation.
It kind. He does not wish to feed the death sitting in its car, but people
Sometimes so are persevering... Yes, it kind. Its kindness – a consequence absolute
Indifference to all. It results from this, that he in anybody does not see
The enemy from anybody does not expect a sneer, blow or treachery... It
It is imperceptible, but itself CATCHES. Its windshield "dodzha" almost completely
It is closed up by feathers and something which are bearing a strong resemblance to confused hair. It not
Prevents to go to it. Light and darkness prebudut with it for ever and ever.
At times people of suburb hear its hoarse shout «penalties-r-r!!!» And
Loud laughter when it is amused, talking to the next passer,
Sitting on a column. People-invisible beings, people-pettiness, people of disasters, people
Misfortunes, people of fatal bad luck consider its legendary
The guide resulting those who wanders blindly, by the natural end.
Or to the beginning? It entirely depends on the point of view that there is a life
Also that there is a death.
And all has begun with shout of the raven sitting on a signpost...
On October, 18-19th, 2001
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