Biography of Cyprus

Penni, chips, stumps, branches would make a more depressing impression if the chop did not have time to get an overlap of the unknown from the stalking lilac-red) that came from. Little shafts held out thin fingers with green nails, the ubiquitous fatty clicker covered forest conflagrations. All this was beautiful, trusting, noisy and hastily, but all this was in the summer, when the matte green grass was interfered with the ants of milestones, shiny in the sun of the rocks, which suddenly turned out to be not gray, not brown, but green.

In winter, all this disappeared, covered with loose, hard snow, which the winds were outlined into the gorges and tamped so that for climbing the mountain it was necessary to cut the steps with an ax in the snow. Here, a few years ago, a taiga fire was raging, destroying a significant part of the trees, which are now in the form of gloomy burned trunks. In living trees, bark is sip of a significant height.

Below, Ivan-Ti-Kipra grows violently, caressing the eyes with red inflorescences in the middle of thick grass. Here and there they parted to give a place for a neglected park with the remnants of a magnificent palace or a granite staircase descending to the water itself. A crimson boil bloomed in the cracks of the stairs. Behind Shlisselburg, the ship entered Lake Ladoga.

The Book of Wandering ”, the zones of the Black Stones camp were located in the valley to the left of the main road. Here, a wide black stream murmured on the rifts, merging below with the river Shaitanka. When I first or in the summer for the first time in this place, I was shocked by a huge number of colors. Both valleys and partially the slopes of the hills were to the very horizon pinking from the lilac-violet colors of Ivan-tea.

This impression formed the basis of my poem "Polar Flowers." At first I could not determine from the car body what kind of flowers.

But when we landed, I immediately recognized the Kiprya familiar from childhood, or Ivan tea. Epilobium angustifolium! True, he was smaller than Russian, and perhaps the second species Latin name I wrote incorrectly. It is possible that this is some other type of Cyprus. They brought us to this place, to the valleys of Ivan the one, to the harvesting of firewood. The poet Valentin Portugalov was falling here for a year in a low Kolyma larch, and by my time, only one PNI has been preserved from the taiga here.

Having shoes in the lamb boots of home dressing and his bathrobe, he washed, prayed and began to consult with Vanka, what would he get drunk today: raspberries, buzins, sage, linden color, kyra, Ivan da-Maria, chamomiles with lilies of the valley or already brew real tea? And Vanka reasoned that Buzina was drunk for the night for the perspiration, raspberries after the bath, sage in bad weather, a linden color with fresh honeycombs, Ivan-da-Maria and chamomile, when he doesn’t, Koporsky, that is, Koporsky or Ivan Chai, out of need, for the lack of the best, and therefore believed to brew real Chinese tea today, which was fulfilled.

The low residential string sang in thickened honey air, impregnated with a sparkle of flower pollen. And electric locomotives with their current speeds, it turns out, is the bees. Opechek buried, he was covered with clay soaked from the shower, from which the furnace was knocked down; A high boil and nettle grew up on Mountain. Cyprus was so high that the old family crosses, [23] standing nearby, on the ground, almost hid in his orange-pink inflorescences.

On these crosses, the grandmother of Major wove the canvases, her grandson was born on this stove, for the first time, freezing with delight, he walked behind childish harmonies ... But the loaf was no longer on the ground. A lilac flap from afar seemed a flower.