Сергей Бережной - Ночь в Старом Крыму
текст песни

"The first version of this poem (then it was not yet a song) I wrote back in the late 80s. The later version of his records in the records of the Green House-Museum in the Old Crimea. The final text was born to a July night of 1995. And I only am only a July night. Now, three years later, he noticed that the date under the poem coincides with the date of death of Alexander Stepanovich ...

Nina is Nina Nikolaevna, the second wife of Alexander Green. After the death of her husband, she remained to live in the Old Crimea, she survived the occupation there, for which she was persecuted after the war. She was even refused the right to be buried next to Green. She was buried in the same Starrykomsky cemetery, but at the outskirts, fifty meters from her husband’s grave. Friends of Nina Nikolaevna a few days later secretly, at night, reburied her next to Alexander Stepanovich. Her grave in the cemetery remained empty, and until 1993, almost no one knew that under the luxurious marble dumpings were two - the one who wrote the “scarlet sails”, and the one to which the “scarlet sails” were dedicated ... ”

Night in the Old Crimea

Hot takes away the echoes,
Reaches for me from afar.
Coffin tests
I see through the whitewashing of the ceiling.
Only the sky is a light strip
Had is heated by mountains for now -
Yes candle made of ghost wax
Breaks in Ninin's hands.

- Well, how are you?
- Thanks I `am fine.
- Is something?
- No, thanks, no ...
However - please give me a notebook,
And please leave me the light ...

A candle melts in a cracked glass,
A gray pencil melts in the fingers ...
Behind the wall - even breath,
Behind the soul is an unbearable circulation.

Okay, we will live without kerosene,
It would be on paper and on bread ...
Haja Staroklim's quagmire
Everything is better than the St. Petersburg crypt.

Maybe here will be better here,
Maybe they will not be afraid of her here
The companies constructed souls
On the parade ground of soulless silence,

Maybe she will not have to get up between
Breathy of Kazenchina ignoramus ...

God! Why hope again?!
Lord, deprive me of hopes!

I know that Kapern is right,
And Assol, alas, is doomed ...
I came up with Gray - in vain, probably.
Every illusion is in vain.

Hi one illusion is not able to
Bring the crucified from the cross.
Cold of the bared grave
No dream will drive out ...

Rarely when Assunta survives,
Rarely the trouble will pass ...
Life comes from hatred - to the rebellion.
Where is the road?
Going nowhere?..

That's all. All the answers were found.
She was swept away, the candle died.

Pain is like a thief. She is afraid of light
And it comes to torment at night.

07/18/1995