A book of famouse journalist Maria Karpinskaya is an attempt to connect a world of imagination, or a private world of person with real world. This attempt has succeeded. Today on a border of times and centuries this surprising and magic book gets out. Surprising because it was written by a Woman who has past a colossal way of her soul.
And why is she here with us? Evidently we will learn it slightly later, for the moment let's go, dear reader, to her Magic Country, where all what is written by her suddenly (or not suddenly) begins to become alive. Ahead to meeting with a Teacher who through her father's figure passed us his knowledges of the World, Earth and people on it.
Ahead to her ship, where all of us are passengers, inhabitants of planet Earth! Smooth sailing to you!
A winner of the All-Union and International variety competitions, a winner of the International festival of actor's song of Andrei Mironov, an actress of "The Modern" theatre.
AN OPENED BOOK OF A CHILDHOOD.
Author: Maria Karpinskaya.
Translation: Maya Nikolaeva.
The eighth chapter of the book:
Such cheerful God of Love, God Dionysus,
He will wash out all vanity of sufferings from us,
He'll make us drink till losing face,
Till loss of our consciousness.
It has to be, in Paradise,
Where it's strange to lie,
We all be tired
With our guilty heart,
For me same easy music bring to birth,
As to the Mother of God - give birth to a baby.
"That pain is happiness - you've given birth to Christ!" -
Archangel told, I answered - "I Know!"
By purity of a musical sheet
Savior of my soul I swaddle,
The sheet will show birthmarks of his,
Redeemer of my soul eternal.
And I remain to finish off my wine,
Giving up my rivers to Dionysus.
Love me while I am cheerful,
Drunk, while have control over myself,
While I wish to get higher,
And you will manage poison
Life to me by own vanity,
Today I'm Mozart, but I will be dust tomorrow,
And Dionysus will disappear - feelings - bared,
The truth on earth having a
Crutch - my art!
WHY DO YOU WAIT FOR ME?
Your tears combed my hair,
With your prayers the runways
Bear me up, removing from your voice
And your eyes, in the sky's veil.
The moments with you, as tops of the memory,
You govern over the shine of feelings and images,
How many miracles you will be given me,
Miracles under the name - grief...
My carpet is weaved from you and poverty,
With a great variety of ornate,
But new pattern won't lay over it -
The pattern so waits for peace.
By eyes of yours, distant as stars,
I am conducted to my world with misted-over glasses,
To the world of gray houses under faded decline,
To the world of streets
where a scope is died.
I already damned all my promises,
Squeezed out in a vacuum of parting,
With passion whispering them to you as a spell,
Do understand, I read farewell.
We bought from the life a couple of bright months
With honey infusion for a treasured meeting,
For a casual meeting and imperceptible,
But the case didn't come.
Why do you wait for me,
By dawn or by evening, strange traveler,
Forgotten by day, and desired at night,
Where honor devoured by darkness.
I betrayed everything that remained behind the conscience,
Having lodged you in the never-ending story
Of my evenings. Everything is trampled by pride,
Which often drives mad.
Don't wait for me, listen, neither by day nor by evening,
I have nothing to put on the altar of expectation,
With crimson dawns sky is brightened,
As though it over drunk blood.
I fly, being between God and the Homeland,
The hairs are mourned, smelling with currant,
I whisper to you with the throat torn apart from a lumps -
Do remain in a riddle of love.
от Жанны Де Арк
от Марии Магдалины
Здесь спрятан Ключ!!!
Тот, кто расшифрует текст, спрятанный здесь и построенный по принципу древних манускриптов, обретёт силу всех образов.
Я отрекаюсь от этого мира ,
Странник корабль летит в мир иной.
С собою беру только лиру.
КТО ЛЮБИТ МЕНЯ,
|Самые древние знания об истории человечества и вселенной читай в откровениях Марии.