Автор: Валентина Семенова
Тема:Свободная тема
Опубликовано: 2016-10-15 21:14:33
Автор не возражает против аналитического разбора и критики в рецензиях.

ПИСЬМА ПРАБАБУШКИ ПИСЬМО 5 часть 1

                    I          
Закончив первый курс отлично,                                                                                                                          
Я на второй перевелась                                                                                                                                                
Обратно в Харьков. Там привычно                                                                                                                        
Жизнь утряслась и улеглась.                                                                                          
Одним все дело осложнялось:                                                                                                                        
Напомню – я себя стеснялась                                                                                                                                      
И чуть не плакала, входив                                                                                                                                                                  
В какой-то новый коллектив.                                                                                                                                  
Я на собрание явилась                                                                                                                    
Едва дыша, почти без сил.                                                                                                                                                                
Наш замдекана огласил                                                                                                                                                                            
Приказ, в котором говорилось:                                                                                                                                            
Из трех автобусов обоз                                                                                                                                    
Студентов  вывезет в колхоз.
                      II    
Туда отправились девчата                                                                                                                          
И только несколько парней                                                                                                                              
(Их на ин.язе маловато).                                                                                                                                               
К тому же, те, кто посильней                                                                                                                                
И заработать были рады –                                                                                                                                  
Те уезжали в стройотряды.                                                                                                                                    
А мы работали в селе,                                                                                                                                    
И наш прораб навеселе                                                                                                                                                   
Нам раздавал наряды на день:                                                                                                                                                       
Прорыть траншею и собрать                                                                                                                       
Свеклы центнеров тридцать пять;                                                                                            
Что ж, по числу мозольных ссадин                                                                                                                    
Легко теперь определят,                                                                                                                                      
Кто плебс, а кто - аристократ.
                III
Аристократы много пили                                                                                                                            
И часто бегали курить,                                                                                                                                
А мы усердно что-то рыли                                                                                                                            
И все пытались нагрузить                                                                                                                                  
Машину собранной картошкой.                                                                                                                            
А вечерами из окошка                                                                                                                                
К нам доносился Джо Дассен,                                                                                                                               
«Ма baker», «Ветры перемен».                                                                                                                          
Но мы на бал не приглашались                                                                                                                       
И чисто девичьим кружком                                                                                                                                
Печенье грызли с молоком                                                                                                                   
И напроситься не решались                                                                                                                                    
Туда, где весело галдят                                                                                                                                                
И делят нескольких ребят.
                  IV
В колхозе легче подружиться,                                                                                                                              
Я там освоилась вполне;                                                                                                                                               
И перед тем как спать ложиться                                                                                                                              
В тягучей сельской тишине,                                                                                                                                    
Девчонки слушали рассказы                                                                                                           
О вурдалаках красноглазых,                                                                                                                                  
О белом всаднике у дамб,                                                                                                                                    
Спасавшем город Амстердам.                                                                                                                            
Мое смущенье испарялось,                                                                                                        
Парили мысли высоко,                                                                                                                                
Непринужденно и легко                                                                                                           
Слова как кружево сплетались.                                                                                                                        
Ночным часам теряя счет,                                                                                                                               
Шептали девочки: -Еще!
                   V
А за неделю до отъезда                                                                                                                                        
Четыре умных головы                                                                                                                                   
Решили: было бы полезно                                                                                                              
В стогу накошенной травы                                                                                                                              
Или в скирде сухой соломы                                                                                                                                
В каком-то месте незнакомом                                                                                                                            
Заночевать от всех тайком.                                                                                                            
С набитым снедью рюкзаком                                                                                                                                           
Мы пошагали  на закате,                                                                                                                                        
С утра приметивши скирду,                                                                                                                           
Встречать вечернюю звезду:                                                                                                                              
Алена, Лиля, я и Катя.                                                                                                            
Вот, спотыкаясь в темноте,                                                                                                                                
Мы добрели к своей мечте,
                  VI
Напоминавшей мастодонта                                                                                                                                      
С косматой шерстью на боках;                                                                                                                        
И – ни души до горизонта!                                                                                                                            
Мы здесь одни – восторг и страх!                                                                                                              
Представьте: future English teachers                                                                                                            
Как дикари вокруг добычи                                                                                                                              
Зачем-то пляшут под скирдой.                                                                                                                                                       
Поднялся месяц молодой                                                                                                                           
И наблюдает холодея,                                                                                                                                    
Как вниз с соломенной горы                                                                                                                              
Летят бесстрашные орлы,                                                                                                                                  
Себе сломать рискуя шею.                                                                                                                        
Мы только к раннему утру                                                                                                           
Угомонились и нору
           VII
Себе прорыв перед рассветом,                                                                                                                    
Поспать  решили заползти.                                                                                                                               
Но ночью теплым бабьим летом                                                                                                            
Продрогнуть можно до кости,                                                                                                                          
К тому же, будь она неладна,                                                                                                        
Солома колется нещадно.                                                                                                                            
Зато мы встретили восход                                                                                                                                    
И вспоминали наш поход,                                                                                                                               
Смеясь до слез в кругу домашних.                                                                                                                      
Но неколеблемый извне,                                                                                                                
За  рябью смеха, в глубине                                                                                                                            
Стелился пар над тучной пашней                                                                                                                    
И пробивался первый луч                                                                                                                              
Сквозь пелену осенних туч.
            VIII
Мелькают будни  – дом, учеба;                                                                                                                  
Живем втроем: я, мать, отец.                                                                                                                              
Они, конечно, рады оба,                                                                                                      
Что я вернулась наконец.                                                                                                                                  
Так вот, пока у нас затишье,                                                                                                                           
Сказать, я думаю, не лишне                                                                                                
О том, насколько их союз                                                                                                                                    
Был образцом семейных уз.                                                                                                                                           
Сначала в них бурлили чувства                                                                                            
Как в каждом браке по любви,                                                                                                                          
Потом утих огонь в крови,                                                                                                                               
В свое вошли гормоны русло,                                                                                                
И  обнажилось все вокруг,                                                                                                                                      
Что раньше прятал Милый Друг.

                   IX
Подруга папы  - наша мама  -                                                                                                                                   
Была всегда во всем права,                                                                                                                              
Больна,  чудовищно упряма  -                                                                                          
Хоть не расти кругом трава!                                                                                                                                
Ей оперировали почку,                                                                                                                                                
Но это были все цветочки.                                                                                      
Как результат – тромбофлебит,                                                                                                                                    
Плюс – с детских лет ревмокардит.                                                                                                                                
Потом урезанная челюсть                                                                                                    
И истончившийся скелет.                                                                                                                                   
(Тогда мне было десять лет)                                                                                                                          
Казалось, все болезни спелись,                                                                                    
Чтобы из нашего отца                                                                                                                                                              
Создать примерного вдовца.
                 X
Уже кружила смерть- бандитка                                                                                                                               
Над ней, когда нашли ответ  -                                                                                                                              
Кисту на паращитовидке,                                                                                                        
И наконец забрезжил свет                                                                                                                                                
Надежды в гибельном  тоннеле:                                                                                                                                                
Врачи спасти ее успели,                                                                                                       
Но после, каждый божий год,                                                                                                                                                    
Все ожидала, что умрет.                                                                                                                                      
Отец молчал, курил, держался,                                                                                      
Переживал один напасть,                                                                                                                          
Ни с кем бедою не делясь,                                                                                                                                  
И на судьбу не обижался,                                                                                                                                  
А просто жил, и с каждым днем                                                                                                                            
И дух и воля крепли в нем.
             XI
Но сердце, сердце не сумело                                                                                                                              
Перетерпеть, перенести…                                                                                                                                
Оно сигналило несмело,                                                                                                
Аорту пробуя спасти.                                                                                                                                    
Все навалилось как-то вместе:                                                                                                                       
Житье с глухим угрюмым тестем                                                                                          
И тещей, острой на язык;                                                                                                                                   
Еда, к которой не привык,                                                                                                                                   
(У нас готовили обильно),                                                                                              
Густая муть житейских склок,                                                                                                                    
А посредине островок                                                                                                                                    
Любви и верности всесильной,                                                                               
Определившей без труда,                                                                                                                               
Что пара – это навсегда.
           XII
Отца три года увозили                                                                                                                                       
На скорой помощи весной,                                                                                                                                   
И наконец предупредили:                                                                                                                   
Стенокардией записной                                                                                        
Пренебрегать уже не дело.                                                                                                                      
Но, мол рассчитывайте смело                                                                                                                  
Лет на пять жизни – время есть!                                                                                                                   
А Косте только сорок шесть.                                                                                    
Кто помнил Дине – усомнился б:                                                                                                                        
-Да он ли ? Вялость, грустный рот,                                                                                                               
Одышка, выросший  живот.                                                                                    
Тогда отец определился                                                                                                                                    
И сделал выбор: -Будем жить!                                                                                                                            
Хоть сам не мог предположить,
               XIII
Куда судьба его направит.                                                                                                                                   
Но он  последует за ней,                                                                                                                                    
И сам  по-своему расставит                                                                                           
Ферзей и пешек, и коней.                                                                                                                                   
Он наложил на пиво вето                                                                                                                                    
И попрощался с сигаретой,                                                                                                    
И в лес, который обожал,                                                                                                                                  
Сперва ходил, потом бежал.                                                                                                                               
Он вместо булки с сервилатом,                                                                                               
С куском свинины жирных щей                                                                                                                    
Съедал немного овощей,                                                                                                                                
Тарелку свежего салата.                                                                                            
Он постройнел, помолодел                                                                                                                                   
И бреясь в ванне, снова пел.
             XIV
По состоянию здоровья                                                                                                                                      
Его уволили в запас.                                                                                                                                    
Начмед, слегка нахмурив брови,                                                                                                                        
Все подписал. Скорей бы с глаз,                                                                                          
Без всяких лишних разговоров,                                                                                                                                          
Долой строптивого майора.                                                                                                                                
Так вот, уволившись в запас,                                                                                                                              
Отец себя буквально спас,                                                                                          
Распорядясь своей свободой,                                                                                                                               
Чтоб мастерить, дышать, гулять,                                                                                                                   
Читать, о жизни размышлять.                                                                                    
Он начал делать переводы,                                                                                                                        
Нашел работу на полдня                                                                                                                                    
И на прогулки звал меня.
              XV
Я шла, боясь его обидеть,                                                                                                                           
Плелась, то ноя, то сердясь,                                                                                                                               
Но там, в лесу, училась видеть                                                                                        
Всего со всем живую связь.                                                                                                                            
Отец же там бывал как дома,                                                                                                                              
Где все уютно и знакомо,                                                                                                       
И лес читая как букварь,                                                                                                                            
Припоминал, что был дикарь,                                                                                                                               
Ребенок  гор, и новый опыт                                                                                           
Равнин шутя приобретал,                                                                                                                               
Легко петлял, но не плутал,                                                                                                                          
Меняя просеки и тропы.                                                                                               
А местный опытный грибник                                                                                                                        
Наверно б горестно поник,
             XVI
Увидев, как непринужденно                                                                                                                            
Отец грибы находит там,                                                                                                                                   
Где только что, определенно,                                                                                                                               
Собрали все. К грибным местам,                                                                                        
Кустам и травам, и деревьям,                                                                                                                            
Как бедуин к своим кочевьям,                                                                                                                          
Он уважение имел:                                                                                                                
Не сквернословил, не шумел,                                                                                                                              
Входя под сомкнутые кроны.                                                                                                                               
И Страж Лесов его встречал,                                                                                                    
Ручей приветливо журчал,                                                                                                                                
Шмели в траве жужжали сонно,                                                                                                                        
Ему доверить согласясь                                                                                                                                    
Всего со всем живую связь!

История cоздания стихотворения:

См. ПИСЬМО 1