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ROAD TO THE HELL
Sergey Young

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                               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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