Give advice, instructions, Teach, judge, criticize, Solve someone's problems Without fuss and delay, These properties are precisely None of us are left out.
Of course, to understand your neighbor Much easier than in yourself After all, not in your own, in someone else’s hut Everything is in the palm of your hand, no matter how you hide it. This is how it happened from ancient days: It's always clearer from the outside.
And I'm the same. This weakness Frankly, it's been like this for a long time Stuck in my eye like a log. As you can see, this is what poets are like. And I didn’t overcome her, I decided to say a few words.
Invoking all the importance and significance, Trusting your judgment, I'll get around it at least a little The banality of strict teachings; Without loud phrases, believe it or not, I'll just give one example.
2.
Once upon a time in bad weather and cold, Shivering and shaking from the wind, I walked along the road slowly, Splashing through puddles like a child. I don't know what attracted me Walk to the music of rain.
Trees in the evening twilight, Like giant fans They made sad noises despite On rain necklaces, Hanging from the branches all around, Playing in the light of the lanterns.
I walked and with a silent glance I looked through the dim rays, Like fast streams everywhere They washed off the dirt, grumbling with disgust. A heavy gray veil The sky hung above me.
And suddenly, as if a splinter It dug into my heart, tearing out a cry, And I stopped instantly, - There was a rose in front of me. Probably one fell out From a lush bouquet she
And now the trouble has arrived: Without the sight of the former beauty, She, dropping petals, She was dying in the cold mud. Picking up the trampled flower, I suddenly heard a voice.
Oh, how much suffering, pain, Despair and bitter tears! Is it really like this in the life of roses, As in the human vale? – Today there is joy, happiness, laughter, And tomorrow there will be only contempt for everyone!
They shout and make noise that life is wrong, That everything confuses us by surprise, But, rejoicing and laughing, Nobody thinks about tomorrow. No one thinks that in everything Changeability is the law.
Days are replaced by nights, Spring gives way to winter. The soul is full of delight, And there, look, trouble is laughing. Now you fly up, now you rush down, - Well, such is life, as you can see.
Yes, I broke up at the wrong time, Having forgotten our agreement long ago. I'll just say one rule: When you climb a mountain, Don't forget that maybe We'll have to go down the mountain.
So, since the lot is painfully threatening, Blame, fingering you angrily, Not only life, but also yourself. Well, now let's get back to the rose. She, warmed by warmth, She whispered tearfully about this.
Which is irrevocably defamed Her short life path, Well, she understood the essence, But it’s too late... Poor thing! However, In her words, without embellishment I am passing on her story.
3.
“Oh, my God, how unhappy I am! What a shameful ending! Oh, my hour of reckoning has come, There is no return, dreams are in vain. Where are you, my joyful days?.. After all, they were, they were...
And I bloomed in a luxurious garden Under the clear blue sky, Alluring with its rainbow Space and starry twinkle With the night beauty moon, Floating languidly above the ground.
And I, like my dear sisters, (Oh, we can’t bring back those bright days) Bathed in the gold of the rays The warmth of the caressing sun. And the heart from the holy rays It burned with tenderness more intensely.
And the garden rang with jubilation And the celebrations of cheerful birds, And happiness knew no bounds And there was no place for suffering. Without knowing sadness and melancholy, Miracle moths fluttered...
Everyone sang, enjoying happiness, The aroma flowed everywhere, The wonderful garden breathed with bliss, And everything around was fragrant. And even in slush or rain Our garden looked like a holiday.
We were not afraid of the heat flames, As soon as the skies were extinguished, And we are crystal dew She fed me with unearthly power. No one knew any pain or wounds, Having drunk the healing balm..."
4.
Sorry, maybe it's inappropriate I'm interrupting this story But I think this time It will be better understood by us, When I say at least a few words About our poor rose again.
Oh, how she trembled all over, I am touched by my participation. Forgetting the bitter smoke of suffering, She laughed and cried And even, it seems, slightly Blush floated on the petals.
Participation, good participation, - Blessed oil for wounds. And we are in our cruelty, It happens that in someone else’s misfortune Let's not stop the pain in our hearts, On the contrary, let's pour salt into the wounds.
Surrendering yourself to the memories About unforgettable bright days, She rose to life again, Forgetting about the death of withering. So the burnt out candle Shining with the last flame,
Suddenly it flashes brightly for a moment And then it goes out forever. But it's good then If the purpose is sacred. Our memories have power Capable of strength to return some of it to us.
Sometimes life has such surprises He will present to us that hold on! Try to figure it out right away In her misunderstood whims. And right there her hand - Sadness, despondency and melancholy.
But you tell me, not only All life is despair and pain, After all, there is both happiness and peace... Why these rumors? Of course, the one who has lived life Will support the said idea.
I continue. If there is anxiety It will overshadow and entangle our path, Our chest will boil and ache And suddenly your legs stop, - Then an arrow hits us in the soul A swarm of bright memories!
And misfortune is forgotten, Dull eyes brighten, And the guest is a bitter tear Will disappear instantly under wondrous power, And inspired soul Rejoices, destroying the darkness of the night.
Oh, in man it’s all about sharing. Incoherent maybe? No way! If the past is taken away, He will lose the present. Let's leave morality aside, now The rose will continue her story.
5.
“Our choir of flowers praises the Creator He lifted up in humble love, And He! Oh, how He loved us Blessing us! Both at night and during the radiant day Our psalm of praise sounded.
But then, one day, oh, misfortune! – Suddenly a dream took possession of me: My holy beauty Let it bring happiness to people. And there was only one thought: I want to go to them, I want to go to their house.
With its famous beauty I will teach them tenderness And in this I will find joy. And inspired by a dream I prayed to God day and night, So that He hastens to help me:
Oh, You are a loving Creator, You are the fullness of life, happiness, Let the cherished dream Mine will now come true. Let me into their noisy house You see for yourself that there is a need.
They are rude, proud, arrogant. I will change their rough life, My color will perform a miracle in them, Send me, oh, by all means! Against such my prayers, I knew He wouldn't stand.
And I heard the voice of God: "With a burst of fiery dreams You won't change their morals But you yourself can die. They will see your beauty And here in a enchanting garden.”
I cried for a long time, I languished, Keep repeating, oh, let me... But suddenly... pain cut through the body, And so I found myself in a vase. The lips were filled with praise: It came true, my dream came true!
6.
How often do we earnestly pray, We are in desperate need, Like this flower Even if it is contrary to God's will. Sorry, for the umpteenth time I interrupted her story again.
I don't feel comfortable blaming her. And why, I’ll tell you now: And sometimes we become They are like a capricious child. We scream, we moan: “God, please And heaven will instantly come to your souls.”
What then? Let's see further. Let the flower tell us, What is the result of his prayers? (And he could also be ours). So, heavy as lead, The end of his story:
“I was delighted for a short time. Oh, bitter hours of life! There is no trace of my beauty, Once upon a time I had a dream, Now... now I am nothing.
Oh, where are those dews that with love I always wanted to drink so much After all, there is no water in a cramped vase, - It's just a pitiful imitation of her. I rushed towards my death, Having lost its nourishing roots.
And the sky is dear, dear, Its alluring space Hid forever, only at point blank range Looked like concrete, dressed in wallpaper. Wherever you throw it, at any moment, Just a crush of gray walls.
I was choking, I was screaming The mustiness choked my chest, Oh, if only I could breathe a little The air that I breathed. And I was exhausted, No one was in a hurry to help.
I wanted so much for just a moment Be in the garden and the nightingale Hear a trill, but I knew That wanting is useless. And next to me, like a wild beast The receiver wheezed furiously.
And instead of the sun that caressed Me in the life-giving rays, Radiant in a deathly radiance, The light bulb flickered. A large family lived there I was lonely.
And from the melancholy that oppresses me, I withered in a short time. Oh, how cruel man is!.. And here is the finale of the blossoming fate: Me (he doesn’t care!) He just threw it out the window.
This is how I, my friend, paid. And the people are the same, my motto Didn't change their lives in any way, Although I prayed so fervently. Well, it's all my fault, As you can see, there is no need for sacrifice.”
7.
The rose fell silent. Like stones Sad words froze. She was already dead And blown away by the breath of death From hands to the rushing stream The last petal has fallen.
Well, that's all. Judge for yourself What is the size of the fault? I told you an example Who is looking for a friend in a foreign camp. This is how I want to wish Remember the rose more often.
