In Crimea …. Artist Alexander Bobrov and Mykola Z
Only the smell of thyme, dry and bitter,
Blew on me – and this sleepy Crimea
And the cypress, and this house, pressed
To the surface of the mountain, merged with him forever. Here the sea – Conductor and resonator – given,
Concert of high waves here is clear in advance.
Here the sound hitting rock slides vertically,
And echoes among the rocks dances and sings.
Acoustics at the top has set up traps,
Approached the ears distant murmur of streams.
And here was the rumble like thunder storms guns
And, like a flower bloomed girl’s kiss.
Congestion tits are whistling at dawn,
Heavy grapes are transparent and al.
Here, time is not in a hurry, there are going to children
Thyme, grass steppes, at fixed rocks.
In a large semicircle of rocks,
Where, dark legs Razuvious,
In the azure bowl of shining waters
Gursuf down sleepy,
Where the rocks, entering into a mirror backwater,
Standing knee-deep in water,
Where the sea is singing, resting sky,
And the mirror is a star –
Only here I knew the superiority of the Seas
Over nasheyu close the ground,
Heard the slow progress of ships
And the echo of the plains of the sea.
There are echoes of the sacrament. Maybe we
Then it excites,
That every heart premonition hour
When it will sink to the bottom.
Oh, what I would not give in return only
For that distance denounced
Persephone and groans, and the singing of the Sirens,
And ringing combat paddle!
Poslednee breath of winter
Highlighting the shingles on a roof
And warm pine wood,
Rising higher and higher
Belated spring sun.
In pinkish-brown smoke
Not covered by sheets of branches,
Shot through the slanting rays,
Beats wing and sings the nightingale. How natural is repeated;
A cone-slow and phrases
Similarly, small this creation
They were singing just for us!
About favorite heart cheats
On the day when the green glade,
I do not get rid of you
I, as an ancient Copernicus destroyed
Pythagorean singing stars
And at the heart of it found
Only babble and music wing.
poems N. Z
Alexander Bobrov was born November 15, 1980.
“A talented young artist, a brilliant representative of the Crimean school of painting.
The artist, who writes, as he was born, lives and works at home Russian plein air – in Gurzuf beautiful. “- So says about his colleague artist Andrei Lysenko.