Old woman Izergil the year of writing. "Old Man Izergil": the genre of the work. What teaches the story of Gorky

I heard these stories under Akkerman, in Bessarabia, on the sea shore.
Once in the evening, king the daytime collection of vintage, Moldovan Party, with
which I worked, went to the shore of the sea, and I and the old woman Izergil remained under
thick shadow of grape vines and lying on the ground, silent, looking like melting in
Blue at night silhouettes of those people that went to the sea.
They walked, sang and laughed; Men - Bronze, with lush, black mustache
and dense curls to shoulders, in short jackets and wide harshs; Women I.
Girls are funny, flexible, with dark blue eyes, also bronze. Them
Hair, silk and black, were dissolved, wind, warm and easy, playing
They, stunned with coins, woven in them. Wind tech is wide, smooth wave,
But sometimes he exactly jumped through something invisible and, giving birth to a strong gust,
Washed the hair of women in fantastic mane, raised around their heads.
It made women strange and fabulous. They went farther from us, and
The night and fantasy dressed them more beautifully.
Someone played a violin ... Girl sang soft contracete, heard
laugh...
The air was impregnated with a sharp smell of the sea and the fat evaporation of the Earth,
Shortly before the evening abundantly moistened with rain. Also wandered across the sky
scraps clouds, lush, strange outlines and paints, here - soft, like clubs
smoke, nizy and ash-blue, there - sharp, like wreckage of rocks,
Matte-black or brown. Between them gently glistened dark blue
Chicks of the sky, decorated with golden starpic stars. All this - sounds and smells,
clouds and people - it was strangely beautiful and sad, seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful
fairy tales. And everything as it were in his height, dying; The noise of GAS votes
Removing, reborn into sad sighs.
- What didn't you go with them? - nodding his head, asked the old woman Izergil.
The time bent it in half, black once the eyes were dim and
Moved. Her dry voice sounded strange, he crush, exactly the old woman spoke
bones.
"I don't want," I replied to her.
- Yeh! .. Old people will be born, Russian. Gloomy everything like demons ...
Our girls are afraid of you ... But you are young and strong ...
The moon rose. Her disk was great, blood-shred, she seemed to be released
from the bowels of this steppe, which in its century so much absorbed the human
Meat and drank blood, why, probably, it became so fat and generous. On us
The lace shadows fell from foliage, I and the old woman were covered with them as a network. By
Steppes, left from us, floated the shadows of clouds, soaked with blue shine of the moon,
They became transparent and light.
- Look, Won goes Larra!
I watched where the old woman pointed out his trembling hand with curves
fingers and saw: the shadows sailed there, there were a lot of them, and one of them, dark and
curly than others swims faster and below the sisters - she fell from the bar
The clouds that floated closer to the ground than others, and rather than them.

I heard these stories under Akkerman, in Bessarabia, on the sea shore. One evening, king the daytime collection of grapes, the Moldovan party, with which I worked, went to the seashore, and I and the old woman Izergil remained under the thick shadow of grape vines and, lying on the ground, silent, looking like melting in the blue night of the night silhouettes People who went to the sea. They walked, sang and laughed; Men are bronze, with lush, black mustache and dense curls to shoulders, in short jackets and wide harshs; Women and girls are cheerful, flexible, with dark blue eyes, also bronze. Their hair, silk and black, were dissolved, the wind, warm and lightweight, playing them, stalked with coins woven into them. Wind tech is a wide, smooth wave, but sometimes he exactly jumped through something invisible and, giving birth to a strong impulse, waved the hair of women in fantastic mane, raised around their heads. It made women strange and fabulous. They went farther from us, and the night and fantasy dressed them more beautifully. Someone played a violin ... Girl sang soft contracete, I heard a laugh ... The air was impregnated with a sharp smell of the sea and the fat evaporation of the Earth, shortly before the evening abundantly moistened with the rain. Also, the cluster, magnificent, strange outlines and paints were wandered across the sky, here - soft, like smoke clubs, gray and ash-blue, there are sharp, like fragments of rocks, matte-black or brown. Between them gently glittered dark blue shles of the sky, decorated with golden starpic stars. All this is the sounds and smells, clouds and people - it was strangely beautiful and sad, seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful fairy tale. And everything as it were in his height, dying; The noise of Gas votes, removing, reborn into sad sighs. - What didn't you go with them? - nodding his head, asked the old woman Izergil. Time bent it in half, black once the eyes were dim and got drunk. Her dry voice sounded strange, he crunched, exactly the old woman spoke to the bones. "I don't want," I replied to her. - Yeh! .. Old people will be born, Russian. Gloomy, everything, like the demons ... They fear you our girls ... But you are young and strong ... The moon rose. Her disc was great, blood-shred, it seemed from the depths of this steppe, which in his century so much absorbed human meat and drank blood, which, probably, became so fat and generous. We fell lace shadows from foliage, I and the old woman were covered with them as a network. On the steppe, to the left of us, floated the shadows of the clouds, soaked with the blue shine of the moon, they became transparent and light. - Look, Won goes Larra! I watched the old woman pointed his trembling hand with the curves with my fingers, and saw the shadows sailed there, there were a lot of them, and one of them, the dark and thicker than others, sailed faster and below the sisters, - she fell from the cloud shred, which Floored closer to Earth than others, and rather than they. - No one there! - I said. - You are blind more than me, old women. Look - won, dark, runs the steppe! I looked still and did not see anything, except for the shadows. - This is a shadow! Why are you calling her Larra? -Well that it is he. He has already become now as a shadow, - Nopal he lives thousands of years, the sun dried his body, blood and bones, and the wind spat them. That's what God can make with a person for pride! .. - Tell me how it was! - I asked the old woman, feeling ahead one of the glorious fairy tales folded in the steppes. And she told me this fairy tale. "Many thousand years have passed since that time it happened. Far behind the sea, at the sunrise, there is a country of a big river, in the country every wood leaf and grass stem gives as much shadow as you need a person to hide in it from the sun, severely hot there. That's what a generous land in that country! A mighty tribe of people lived there, they grazed herd and hunt for beasts spent their strength and courage, drank after hunting, sang songs and played with girls. Once, during the pyr, one of them, black-haired and gentle, like the night, took the eagle, descending from the sky. The arrows fleeing into it with men fell, miserable, back to the ground. Then we went to look for a girl, but did not find it. And forgot about it, how to forget about everything on Earth. " The old woman sighed and silent. Her creak voice sounded as if it was rushed with all the forgotten centuries, embodied in her breast with the shadows of memories. The sea quietly fired the beginning of one of the ancient legends, which may be created on his shores. "But in twenty years, she herself came, exhausted, withered, and he had a young man, beautiful and strong, as she herself was twenty years ago. And when she was asked where she was, she said that the eagle took her to the mountains and lived with her, as with his wife. Here is his son, and the father is no longer the weaker, then he rose at the last time high in the sky and, folding the wings, he fell heavily from there to the sharp ledges of the mountain, crashed themselves about them ... Everyone was looking to surprise on the son of an eagle and saw that he was no better than them, only his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds. And they talked to him, and he answered, if he wanted, or was silent, and when the oldest tribes came, he spoke with them, as with equal himself. It insulted them, and by calling him an intereled arrow with a nervous tip, they told him that their honor, they obey thousands of such as he, and thousands twice as older than him. And he, boldly looking at them, answered that such as he, no more; And if everything is honored - he does not want to do this. Oh! .. Then they really became completely angry. Angry and said: - He has no place among us! Let go where wants. He laughed and went where he wanted to him, - to one beautiful girl who looked at him intently; I went to her and, approaching, hugged her. And she was a daughter of one of the foreman who condemned him. And, although he was handsome, she pushed him away, because he was afraid of his father. She pushed him away, and he went away, and he hit her and, when she fell, rose her legs on her chest, so that from her mouth blood splashed to the sky, the girl, sighing, wriggled the snake and died. All those who saw it accumulated fear, - for the first time as they killed a woman so much. And for a long time, everyone was silent, looking at her, lying with open eyes and a bloody mouth, and on him who stood alone against everyone, and was proud, - did not lower his head, as if causing a punishment to her. Then, when they got dragged, they grabbed him, tied up and so left, finding what to kill now - too simple and will not satisfy them. " The night grew and fastened, folling with strange, quiet sounds. Susliki was sad in the steppe, a glass dwarfger of grasshoppers, foliage sighed and whispered, full of moon disk, before the bloody-red, was pale, removing from the ground, pale and all richly lied in the steppe bluish Molu ... "And so they gathered to come up with a penalty, a decent crime ... I wanted to ruin him with horses - and it seemed few to them; Thought to put in him all over the arrow, but rejected and it; offered to burn it, but the smoke of the fire would not allow to see his torment; They offered a lot - and did not find anything so good to like everyone. And his mother stood in front of them on his knees and was silent, not finding neither tears, nor words to beg about mercy. They talked for a long time, and here one sage said, thinking long: - I ask him why he did it? Asked him about it. He said: - Unleash me! I will not talk connected! And when untied him, he asked: - What do you need? - asked, for sure they were slaves ... "You heard ..." said the sage. - Why will I explain to you my actions? - To be understood by us. You, proud, listen! Anyway, you die after all ... Let us understand what you did. We stay to live, and it is useful for us to know more than we know ... - Well, I will say, although I may not understand what happened. I killed her therefore, it seems to me - that she pushed me off ... And I needed it. - But she is not yours! - told him. - Do you use only your own? I see that every person has only speech, hands and feet ... And he owns animals, women, earth ... and many more ... He was told on this that for everything that a man takes, he pays himself: his mind and strength, sometimes - life. And he answered that he wants to keep himself entire. Long told him and finally saw that he considers himself the first on earth and, except for himself, he sees anything. Everyone was even scary, when they understood what kind of loneliness he commocated himself. He had no tribe, nor mother, no cattle, no wife, and he did not want anything of it. When people saw it, they again began to judge how to punish him. But now they talked for a long time, - he, wise who did not interfere with him to judge, spoke himself: - Stand! Punishment is. This is a terrible sentence; You do not invent such a thousand years! Punishment to him - in him itself! Let him, let him be free. Here is his punishment! And then the great one happened. He hit the thunder from heaven, - although they were not clouded. This is the forces of heaven confirmed the speech of the wise. All bowed and diverged. And this young man who has now received the name of Larra, which means: rejected, thrown out, - the young man laughs loudly after people who threw him laughing, staying alone, free as his father. But his father was not a man ... And this one was a man. And so he began to live, free, like a bird. He came to the tribe and stolen cattle, girls - everything that wanted. It was shot, but the arrows could not pierce his bodies, closed by the invisible cover of the highest pitch. He was deft, preached, Silen, cruel and did not meet with people face to face. Only published seen it. And for a long time he, lonely, so rushed near people, for a long time - more than a dozen years. But once he came close to people and, when they rushed to him, did not touch him and did not show anything to defend themselves. Then one of the people guessed and shouted loudly: - Do not touch him! He wants to die! And everyone stopped, not wanting to alleviate the fate of one who did evil, not wanting to kill him. Stopped and laughing at him. And he trembled, hearing this laughter, and everything was looking for something on his chest, grabbing her with his hands. And suddenly he rushed to people, raising the stone. But they, evading his blows, did not cause him a single one, and when he, tired, with a dreary cry fell to Earth, they moved away and watched him. So he got up and, raising the knife lost by someone in the fight, hit his chest. But the knife broke down - they hit them exactly in the stone. And again he fell to the ground and he fought his head for a long time. But the earth was removed from him, deepening from his head blows. - He can't die! - Joy said people. And left, leaving him. He lay down the face and saw the mighty eagles in the sky in the sky. In his eyes, there were so many longing that could be poisoned by all the people of the world. So, since then he remained alone, free, waiting for death. And now he walks, walks everywhere ... See, he has already become like a shadow and there will be forever! He does not understand the speech of people nor their actions - nothing. And everything is looking for, walks, walks ... he has no life, and death does not smile at him. And there is no place among people ... That's how a person was struck for pride! " The old woman sighed, silent, and her head, dropping on his chest, swung strange several times. I looked at her. Old woman defeated sleep, it seemed to me. And for some reason it sorry for her scary. The end of the story she led such a sublime, threatening tone, and yet in this tone was the fearless, slave note. On the shore of Palm, - strangely soldered. At first there was a contrast, - he lost two or three notes, and a different voice rang out, who began a song at first and the first one was still ahead of him ...- The third, fourth, the fifth joined the song in the same order. And suddenly the same song, again, at first, the choir of men's votes. Every voice sounded completely separately, they all seemed to be multi-colored streams and, exactly rolling from somewhere on the ledge, jumping and linking, jumped into a thick wave of men's voices, smoothly drunk up, drowned in her, broke out of her, drove her and again One after another was spawned, clean and strong, high up. Noise Waves was not heard by voices ...

II.

- Have you heard somewhere else sang? - asked Ispergil, raising his head and smiling to a toothless mouth. - I did not hear. Never heard ... - And you will not hear. We love to sing. Just handsome can sing well, - handsome people who love to live. We love to live. Watch, isn't it tired for the day those who sing there? From sunrise, the sunset worked, the moon rose, and already - sing! Those who do not know how to live, lay down to sleep. Those with the life of Mila, so they sing. "But health ..." I began to be. - Health is always enough for life. Health! Do you, having money, would not spend them? Health is the same gold. Do you know what I did when was young? I cailed carpets from sunset, without getting up almost. I, like a sunbeam, was living and it was supposed to sit still, just a stone. And sat before, it happened, all the bones are cracking. And how the night will come, I fled to the one who loved, kissing with him. And so I ran three months while there was love; All nights of this time had been from him. And so that pore lived - enough blood! And how much loved! How many kisses took and gave! .. I looked at her face. Her black eyes were still dim, they did not revive the memories. The moon illuminated her dry, cracked lips, pointed chin with gray hair on it and a wrinkled nose, swept, like beak owls. On the scene of the cheek were black pits, and in one of them lay a strand of ashes-gray hair, who embarrassed from under the red rag, who was wrapped up her head. The skin on the face, the neck and the hands are all cut with wrinkles, and with each movement of the oldestrigill one could wait for the dry skin, it will break off all the skeletons and prevents a naked skeleton with dull black eyes. She began to tell her crisp again: - I lived with my mother under Falie, on the very shore of the rude; And I was fifteen years old when he appeared to our khutor. He was so tall, flexible, black, cheerful. He sits in a boat and so he shouts into the windows: "Hey, do you have wine ... and eat me?" I looked out into the window through the branches of the ash and see: the river is all blue from the moon, and he, in a white shirt and in a wide slica with the ends in the side, stands one foot in the boat, and the other on the shore. And swayed, and sings something. I saw me, says: "That's what kind of beauty lives here! .. And I did not know about it!" I just knew all the beauties before me! I gave him wines and boiled pork ... And four days later I already gave all myself ... We all rode them in the boat at night. He will come and will post quietly, like Suslik, and I emphasize like a fish, in the window on the river. And we are going ... He was a fisherman from the rod, and then when the mother found out about everything and beat me, persuaded everyone to leave me to Dobrudju and then, in Danube Girla. But I really didn't like then - only sings yes kissing, nothing more! Bored it was already. At that time, Hutsules walked in the same place, and they had kind of kind ... So it was fun. Other is waiting for his carpathian well done, it thinks that he is already in prison or killed somewhere in a fight, - and suddenly he is alone, and with two-three comrades, as from the sky, will fall to her. Gifts made rich - it all got it all! And she drinks, and praises her before his comrades. And her anyone is. I asked for one girlfriend, who was Gutsul, show them them ... How was her called? I forgot how ... everything began to forget now. Much time passed since then, all forget! She introduced me to a young man. It was good ... Redhead was, all redheads - and mustache and curls! Fire head. And he was so sad, sometimes affectionate, and sometimes, like a beast, roared and fought. Once I hit me in my face ... And I, like a cat, jumped into his chest, and he dug his teeth on the cheek ... Since then, he became a jam on his cheek, and he loved when I kissed her ... - And where did the fisherman go? - I asked. - Fisherman? And he ... here ... He stuck to them, to Gutsulami. At first, everyone persuaded me and threatened to throw in the water, and then - nothing, she was stuck to them and the other started ... they were both hanged together - and the fisherman and this hutsula. I went to watch them hung. In Dobrudzhe it was. The fisherman was walking on the execution of pale and crying, and Gutsul was smoked. It goes well and smokes, hands in your pockets, one mustache on the shoulder lies, and the other flourished on the chest. He saw me, took out the phone and shouts: "Goodbye! .." I regret it for a whole year. Eh! .. it was then with them, as they wanted to go to the Carpathians to themselves. For sale, went to one Romanian to visit, they caught them there. Two only, and several killed, and the rest left ... Still Romanan paid after ... The farm burned and the mill and the whole bread. Beginning became. - Did you do it? - I asked Rudich. - There were a lot of friends from Hutsulov, not alone I ... who was their best friend, he guailed her acknowledged ... The song on the seashore was already silent, and the old woman evened now only the noise of sea waves, - thoughtful, rebellious noise was a glorious story about rebellious life. All softer became night, and the blue radiance of the Moon was increasingly rarated, and the uncertain sounds of the troubles of her invisible inhabitants became quieter, drunk by the wave ripped rustle ... for the wind was intensified. "And then I loved the Turk." In Harem he had, in the scouts. I lived for a whole week - nothing ... but it became boring ...- All women, women ... Eight had them ... All day eating, sleep and chatting stupid speeches ... or swear, quacks like chicken ... He was elderly, this Turk. Sedoy almost and so important, rich. He said - like the Lord ... Eyes were black ... straight eyes ... look straight into the soul. He loved to pray. I saw him in Bukurishti ... walks in the market as the king, and looks so important, it is important. I smiled at him. In the same evening they grabbed me on the street and brought to him. He sold sandals and palm, and I came to buy something in Bukurishti. "Go to me?" - Says. "Oh yeah, I will go!" - "Good!" And I went. Rich he was, this Turk. And his son had already been a black boy, a flexible one ... He had sixteen years old. With him, I ran away from the Turk ... I ran into Bulgaria, in a scrambled eggs ... there I hit my chest for a knife with a knife for the groom or my husband - I do not remember. I quickly have a long time in the monastery one. Convent. One girl, polka, cared for me, from the monastery of another, - near the archer-palane, I remember, - my brother walked, too, the nuns ... so ... as a worm, everything was eclipsed before me ... and when I recovered, it went with him ... to Poland him. - Waitant! .. and where is the little Turk? - Boy? He died, boy. From the longing of the house or from love ... But he began to dry, as the faster village, which was too much sought of the sun ... and sneeze everything ... I remember, it lies, the whole is already transparent and bluish, like ice, and Love is still burning in it ... And everything asks to lean and kiss him ... I loved him and, I remember, I kissed a lot ... Then he was completely bad - did not move almost. Lies and so complaints like a beggar of alms, asks me to lie next to him and warm him. I went to bed. You lie with him ... He will immediately light up all. Once I woke up, and he is already cold ... dead ... I cried over him. Who will say? Maybe, because I killed him. Twice as older I was then it was too. And there was such a strong, juicy ... And he - what? .. Boy! .. She sighed and - the first time I saw it with her - crossed three times, whispering something dry lips. "Well, you went to Poland ..." I suggested to her. - Yes ... with topics, a small pole. He was funny and sneaky. When he needed a woman, he gave me a cat and with his tongue hot honey tech, and when he did not want me, then clicked me with words like a whip. Once somehow we went on the banks of the river, and so he told me proud, an offensive word. ABOUT! Oh! .. I got angry! I boiled like a resin! I took it on my arms and, like a child, - he was small, - raised up, squeezing him the sides so that he cried the whole. And so I swung and threw it from the shore into the river. He shouted. It shouted funny so much. I looked at him from above, and he floundered there in the water. I left then. And no longer met with him. I was happy for it: never met after with those who once loved. These are bad meetings, anyway, as it were, with the dead. The old woman fell silent, sighing. I imagined people by her. Here is the fiery-redhead, the Usol Gutsul goes to die, calmly smoking the tube. He probably had cold, blue eyes, who looked at everything fortuedly and firmly. Here is a black fishing fisherman with a rod; Crying, not wanting to die, and on his face, pale from the suicide longing, swept the funny eyes, and the mustache, moistened with tears, were sadly marched at the corners of the curved mouth. Here he, the old, important Turk, probably fatalist and despot, and next to him his son, pale and fragile Flower of the East, poisoned by kisses. But a vain pole, gallant and cruel, eloquent and cold ... and all of them - only the pale shadows, and the one they kissed, sitting next to me, but desired by time, without a body, without blood, with a heart without desires , with eyes without fire, is also almost shadow. She continued: - It became difficult to me in Poland. Cold and false people live there. I did not know their snake language. All are hissing ... what are hissing? This God gave them such a snake language for the fact that they are false. I went then, not knowing where, and saw how they were going to rebel with you, Russians. Reached to the city of Kochnia. Liquid one bought me; Not for myself bought, but to trade me. I agreed to it. To live - you need to be able to do something. I did not know anything and paid for it. But I thought then that after all, if I would get a little money to grind to myself, I would break the chains, no matter how strong them were. And I lived there. I walked to me rich women and drank from me. It was expensive to them. They fought because of me they were ruined. One sought me for a long time and since what I did; Came, and the servant follows him with a bag. Here Pan picked up that bag and overturned him over my head. Gold coins stuck me on the head, and I had fun to listen to their ringing when they fell on the floor. But I still kicked out Pan. He had such a thick, raw face, and belly - as a big pillow. He looked like a full pig. Yes, I kicked him, although he said that he sold his lands, and at home, and horses to sink me with gold. I then loved one worthy pan with a chopped face. The whole face was peeping the cross-cross-time with the sabers of the Turks, with whom he was short before he fought for the Greeks. Here is a man! .. What is the Greeks, if he is Pole? And he went, fought with them against their enemies. He drove him, he had one eye from shocks, and two fingers on the left hand were also cut down ... What is the Greeks, if he is Pole? But what: he loved feats. And when a person loves feats, he always knows how to do them and find where it is possible. In life, you know, there is always a place of the feats. And those who do not find them for themselves are those just lazy or panties, or do not understand life, because, people people understood life, everyone would wanted to leave behind her shadow in her. And then life would not devour people without a trace ... Oh, this, chopped, was a good man! He was ready to go on the edge of the world to do something. Probably, yours killed him during the rebellion. Why did you go to beat Magyar? Well, well, silent! .. And, ordering me to be silent, the old Izergil suddenly silence herself, thought. - I also knew Magyar alone. He once left me, - in winter it was, - and only in the spring, when it became snow, found him in the field with a sneaky head. That's how! You see - no less than the plague go away the love of people; If I calculate - no less ... What did I say? About Poland ... Yes, there I played my last game. I met one gentry ... That was beautiful! Like hell. I was old, Eh, Stara! Was there four decades? Perhaps that it was ... And he was also proud, and was spoiled by us, women. He became expensive to me ... Yes. He wanted to take me rightly so much, but I was not given. I have never been slave, draw. And with the liquid I already finished, a lot of money gave him ... and already in Krakow lived. Then I had everything: both horses, gold, and servants ... He went to me, a proud demon, and he wanted to throw himself in his hands herself. We argued with him ... I even - I remember, "faded from it. It has long been stretching ... I took my own: he kneeling me on his lap ... but only took how he threw. Then I understood that I became old ... oh, it was not sweet! That's not sweet! .. I loved him, this feature ... And he, having met with me, laughed ... He was sad! And another he laughed at me, and I knew it. Well, I was bitterly for me, I will say! But he was here, close, and I still admired them. And how he left to fight with you, the Russians, sick me. I broke myself, but I could not break ... And I decided to go after him. He was near Warsaw, in the forest. But when I arrived, I learned that you have broken them ... and that he is in captivity, close to the village. "So, I thought," I will not see it anymore! " And I wanted to see. Well, began to try to see ... Beggar dressed, chrome, and went, tolding a face, in that village, where he was. Everywhere the Cossacks and soldiers ... expensive I was worth being there! I learned where the Poles are sitting, and see that it is difficult to get there. And I needed it. And now I crawled away at night, where they were. The creep between the garden between Groz and see: the clock stands on my road ... And I heard me - they sing Poles and speak loudly. Sing a song one ... to the mother of God ... and he sings there ... Arcadek mine. I was bitterly, as I thought that I used to crawl behind me ... But it was time for me - and I crawled the snake on the ground after a man and, maybe his death. And this watch already listens, arched forward. Well, what am I? I got up from the ground and went to him. I have no knife, nothing but the hands yes of the language. I regret that I did not take a knife. I whisper: "Wait! .." And he, this soldier, already put a bayonet to my throat. I tell him a whisper: "It's not if, wait, listen, if you have a soul! I can not give anything to you, but I ask you ... "He lowered the gun and also says to me:" I went away, Baba! Went! What do you want?" I told him that my son was locked here ... "You understand, a soldier, - Son! You, too, whose son, yes? So look at me - I have the same as you and Won where! Let me look at him, maybe he will die soon ... And maybe you will kill tomorrow ... will your mother cry about you? And after all, it will die hard to die without looking at her, your mother? And my son is hard. I spoke to myself and him, and me - Mother! .. " Oh, how long I told him! It was raining and urine us. The wind fell and roared, and pushed me into his back, then in the chest. I stood and swinging in front of this stone soldier ... And he said everything: "No!" And every time I heard his cold word, even hotter in me flashed the desire to see Tracker ... I said and measured the eyes of a soldier - he was small, dry and all cough. And so I fell to Earth in front of him and, covering his knees, all the stacing of him with hot words, dumped the soldier to the ground. He fell into dirt. Then I quickly turned his face to Earth and pressed his head in a puddle, so that he did not shout. He did not shout, but only floundered, trying to reset me from his back. I squeezed his head deeper into the dirt. He suffered ... Then I rushed to the barn, where the Poles sang. "Arcadec! .." - I whispered in the slit of the walls. They are awesome, these Poles, - and having heard me, did not stop singing! Here is his eyes against my. "Can you get out of here?" - "Yes, through the floor!" He said. "Well, go." And here four them got out of this barn: three and arcadek mine. "Where are the sentries?" Asked Arcadek. "Won lies! .." and they went quietly, bent to the ground. The rain was walking, the wind was loud. We left the village and silently walked for a long time. Quickly so walked. Arcadek kept my hand, and his hand was hot and trembled. Oh! .. I was so good with him while he was silent. The last few minutes are the good moments of my greedy life. But we went to the meadow and stopped. They thanked me all four. Oh, how long have they told me something long! I listened and looked at my Pan. What will he do to me? And so he hugged me and said so important ... I do not remember what he said, but it came out that now he is in gratitude for giving him, will love me ... And he became on his knees before me Smiling, and told me: "My Queen!" This is what a false dog was! .. Well, then I gave him a kick with my foot and would hit him in my face, but he repaired and jumped up. Grozny and pale stands it before me ... They stand and those three, gloomy all. And everyone is silent. I looked at them ... I was then - I remember - just boring very much, and so lazy attacked me ... I told them: "Go!" They, dogs, asked me: "You turn there, specify our way?" That's what kind of sublit! Well, nevertheless they left. Then I went ... And the next day you took me, but soon let go. Then I saw that it was time for me to start the nest, would live a cuckoo! I have become hard, and we have weakened the wings, and the feathers swelling ... It's time! Then I went to Galicia, and from there to Dobrudju. And for about three decades I live here. I had a husband, Moldovan; Died since a year of that time. And I live here! One live ... no, not alone, and ving with those. The old woman waved his hand to the sea. Everything was quiet there. Sometimes some brief, deceptive sound and died immediately. - They love me. I tell them a lot of different things. They need it. Still young all ... and I feel good with them. I look and think: "So I was, the time was the same ... Only then, in my time, there was more power and fire in man, and therefore lived more fun and better ... Yes! .." She silent. I was sad next to her. She dreamed, shaking his head, and quietly whispered something ... maybe prayed. A cloud rose from the sea - black, heavy, harsh outlines, similar to a mountain range. She crawled into the steppe. The shreds of clouds were broken from her vertices, rushing forward her and quenched the stars one after another. The sea is noisy. Not far from us, in the vines of grapes, kissed, whispered and sighed. Deep in the steppe fell a dog ... The air irritated nerves by a strange smell, tickling the nostrils. From the clouds fell on the ground thick flocks of shadows and crawled along it, crawled, disappeared, were again ... Only a muddy opal spot remained on the place of the moon, sometimes it was completely closed by a nasy cloud shred. And in the steppe, they gave, now black and terrible, as if attached, let's hide something, broken small blue lights. That's there, then they came to the moment and Gasli, just a few people scattered on the steppe from each other, looking for something in her, Ignoring the matches that the wind immediately quenched. These were very strange blue lights of fire, hinting for something fabulous. - Do you see sparks? - I asked me isergil. - Those blue? - Pointing her to the steppe, I said. - Blue? Yes, that's them ... So, they fly after all! Well, well ... I don't see them anymore. I can not see a lot now. - Where are these sparks? I asked the old woman. I heard something earlier about the origin of these sparks, but I wanted to listen to how old Izergil tells about the same. - These sparks from the burning heart of Danko. It was in the light of the heart, which one day broke out ... And here is these sparks. I will tell you about it ... too old fairy tale ... old, all old! See you, how much in the old days? .. And now there is nothing like that - no cases nor people nor fairy tales, as in an older ... Why? .. Well, tell me! Do not say ... What do you know? What do you all know, young? Ahu-heh! .. Would look in an old Zorko - there are all the deposits there ... But you do not look and do not know how to live because I don't see life? Oh, I see everything, albeit my eyes! And I see that people do not live, but everyone is trying on, trying and put on it all their lives. And when they make themselves, I spent time, it will begin to cry on fate. What is the fate? Everyone's fate! I see any people now, but there are no strong! Where are they? .. And the handsome are becoming less and less. The old woman was thinking about where strong and beautiful people were moved from life, and thinking, examined the dark steppe, as if looking for an answer in it. I waited for her story and was silent, fearing that if I ask her about anything, she would again disapte the side. And now she began the story.

III

"Some people lived on Earth in ancient, impassable forests surrounded the camp of these people from three sides, and the fourth was the steppe. There were funny, strong and bold people. And now it came once a hard time: there were other tribes from somewhere and drove the former into the depths of the forest. There were swamps and darkness, because the forest was old, and so thickly twisted his branches, which was not to see the sky, and the sun's rays could barely pierce their way to the marshes through the thick foliage. But when his rays fell on the water of the swamps, then SMRArad risen, and from him people died one by one. Then they began to cry and children of this tribe began to cry, and the fathers thought and fell into the longing. It was necessary to leave this forest, and for that there were two roads: one - back, - there were strong and evil enemies, the other - forward, there were giant trees, hugging each other with mighty branches, lowering the knotted roots deep into the tenant swamps. These stone trees stood silently and motionless in the afternoon in the gray dusk and even more densely moved around people in the evenings, when fires were lit. And always, in the afternoon and night, around those people was the ring of sturdy darkness, it was exactly going to crush them, and they were accustomed to the steppe just. And there was still scary when the wind beat on the tops of the trees and the whole forest was deaf buzzed, accurately threatened and sang the funeral song to those people. It was still strong people, and could they go fight to death with those that once defeated them, but they could not die in battles, because they had covenants, and if they died, they were missing from them from Life and Covenants. And therefore they sat and thought in long nights, under the deaf noise of the forest, in a poison of a swamp. They sat, and the shadows from the fires jumped around them in a silent dance, and it seemed to everyone that this was not a shade dance, but the evil spirits of the forest and swamps triumph ... people sat and thought. But nothing - neither work, nor a woman exacerbate the body and souls of people as the dreary Duma exacerbate. And we have weakened people from the spirit ... fear was born among them, sought them strong hands, horror gave birth to women on the corpses of the dead from the Smrade and above the fate of the living fear of living, - and the cowardly words began to be heard in the forest, first timid and quiet, and then Every louder and louder ... Already wanted to go to the enemy and bring him to the will of His will, and no one, afraid of death, was not afraid of slave life ... But here he was Danko and saved everyone alone. " The old woman, obviously, often talked about the burning heart of Danko. She spoke singers, and her voice, creaky and deaf, clearly painted the noise of the forest, among which died from the poisonous breath of the Marsh Unhappy, drunk people ... "Danko is one of those people, a young handsome man. Beautiful - always bold. And so he tells them, his comrades: - Do not hate the stone from the way the dummy. Who does nothing, nothing will become. What do we spend the forces on the Duma and longing? Get up, let's go to the forest and pass through, because it also has an end - everything in the world has the end! Come! Well! Gay! .. We looked at him and saw that he was the best of all, because in the eyes there was a lot of strength and living fire. - You lead us! - they said. Then he led ... " The old woman was silent and looked into the steppe, where all the tremens of Darkness. The sparkles of the burning heart of Danko broke out somewhere far and seemed like blue air colors, flourishing only for a moment. "He led to Danko. Everyone went for him - believed in it. Hard way it was! It was dark, and at every step the swamp spoiled her greedy rot, swallowing people, and the trees treated the road by a mighty wall. Intertwined their branches among themselves; As a snake, stretched everywhere roots, and every step cost a lot of sweat and blood to those people. They walked for a long time ... The forest became all the thicker, there was less and less strength! And now they began to rap in Danko, saying that in vain, he, young and inexperienced, led them somewhere. And he walked in front of them and was cheerful and clear. But one day, the thunderstorm sank over the forest, the trees whispered down, Grozno. And then then in the forest so dark, exactly all nights were gathered in it, how many were in the light of them since then, as he was born. Little people were among the big trees and in the Grozny Noise Noise, they walked, and swashing, the giant trees creaked and buzzed angry songs, and lightning, flying over the tops of the forest, lit up for a moment in blue, cold fire and disappeared as fast, As we were, scaring people. And the trees lit by cold lightning lights seemed to be alive, stretching around people who were from captivity of darkness, cored, long hands, gossiping them in a thick network, trying to stop people. And from the darkness branches looked at something terrible, dark and cold. It was a difficult path, and people tired of them fell in spirit. But they were ashamed to confess their impotence, and here they were in anger and anger hit Danko, a man who walked in front of them. And they began to reproach him in the inability to manage them, which is how! They stopped at the solemn noise of the forest, among the trembling darkness, tired and evil, began to judge Danko. "You," they said, "an insignificant and harmful person for us!" You led us and tired, and for it you will die! - You said: "Array!" - And I led! - Danko shouted, becoming a breast against them. - I have a courage to lead, that's why I led you! And you? What did you do to help yourself? You just walked and did not know how to keep the strength on the path more long! You just walked, went like a flock of sheep! But these words enraged them even more. - You will die! You will die! - They roared. And the forest was jetty and buzzed, the second to be crouched, and the lightning ruined the darkness in the shreds. Danko looked at those for whom he suffered work, and saw that they were like beasts. Many people stood around him, but was not on the faces of their nobility, and it was impossible to wait for mercy from them. Then in his heart it boiled indignation, but from pity for people it went out. He loved people and thought that, maybe, without him, they would die. And here his heart flashed down the desire to save them, to bring them on the light way, and then the rays of the mighty fire spurled in his eyes ... And they, seeing it, thought that he was stripped, why it was so bright and blocked, and they were alerted like wolves, waiting for it to fight them, and became more detrimental to surround it to make it easier for them to grab and kill Danko. And he already understood their Duma, because he was still brighter in him in him, because this Duma gave birth to longing in him. And the forest sang your gloomy song, and thunder thundered, and lil rain ... - What do I do for people?! - Grandomy shouted Danko. And suddenly he ripped his chest himself and pulled his heart out of her and raised him high above his head. It was buried so bright as the sun, and brighter the sun, and the whole forest fell silent, lit by this torch of the Great Love to people, and Darkness scattered from the light of him and there, deep in the forest, trembling, fell in a rotten zev of the swamp. People, amazed, became like stones. - Go! - shouted Danko and rushed forward to his place, highly holding a burning heart and lighting them the way to people. They rushed after him, fascinated. Then the forest again slammed, surprised by the tops, but his noise was drowned by the trap of running people. Everyone fled quickly and boldly, fascinated by the wonderful spectacle of the burning heart. And now I dressed, but gibbles without complaints and tears. And Danko everything was ahead, and his heart was all burned, glowed! And so suddenly the forest was intercomed in front of him, I was parted and left behind, tight and dumb, and Danko and all those people immediately plunged into the sea of \u200b\u200bsunlight and clean air, washed with rain. The thunderstorm was there, behind them, over the forest, and then the sun shone, the steppe sighed, glistened the grass in the rain diagrams and gold glittered the river ... It was evening, and from the rays of sunset the river seemed red, like that blood that beat the hot jet from the torn breast Danko. I threw myself ahead of myself on the Shreping of the steppe proud dankozk, "he threw a joyful gaze to his free land and laughed proudly. And then fell and died. People, joyful and complete hopes, did not notice the death of him and did not see what is still burning near the corpse of Danko his bold heart. Only one cautious person noticed this and, fearing something, stepped on a proud heart with his foot ... And here it, scattering in sparks, fade ... " - That's where they come from, the blue sparks of the steppe, what are in front of a thunderstorm! Now that the old woman ended her beautiful fairy tale, the steppe became scary quietly, accurately and she was amazed by the powers of Danko, which burned his heart for people and died, without asking them nothing as a reward to themselves. Old woman Dremad. I looked at her and thought: "How many fairy tales and memories remained in her memory?" And I thought about the great burning heart of Danko and about human fantasy, which created as many beautiful and strong legends. The wind rejuvenated and exposed me out of the rachmothev, the old worms of the old woman of the isergil, falling asleep everything is stronger. I covered her old body and myself lay down on Earth near her. The steppe was quiet and dark. In the sky, all crawled clouds, slowly, boring ... the sea was noisy deaf and sad.

I heard these stories under Akkerman, in Bessarabia, on the sea shore.

One evening, king the daytime collection of grapes, the Moldovan party, with which I worked, went to the seashore, and I and the old woman Izergil remained under the thick shadow of grape vines and, lying on the ground, silent, looking like melting in the blue night of the night silhouettes People who went to the sea.

They walked, sang and laughed; Men are bronze, with lush, black mustache and dense curls to shoulders, in short jackets and wide harshs; Women and girls are cheerful, flexible, with dark blue eyes, also bronze. Their hair, silk and black, were dissolved, the wind, warm and lightweight, playing them, stalked with coins woven into them. Wind tech is a wide, smooth wave, but sometimes he exactly jumped through something invisible and, giving birth to a strong impulse, waved the hair of women in fantastic mane, raised around their heads. It made women strange and fabulous. They went farther from us, and the night and fantasy dressed them more beautifully.

Someone played a violin ... Girl sang soft contracete, I heard a laugh ...

The air was impregnated with a sharp smell of the sea and the fat evaporation of the Earth, shortly before the evening abundantly moistened with the rain. Also, the cluster, magnificent, strange outlines and paints were wandered across the sky, here - soft, like smoke clubs, gray and ash-blue, there are sharp, like fragments of rocks, matte-black or brown. Between them gently glittered dark blue shles of the sky, decorated with golden starpic stars. All this is the sounds and smells, clouds and people - it was strangely beautiful and sad, seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful fairy tale. And everything as it were in his height, dying; The noise of Gas votes, removing, reborn into sad sighs.

- What didn't you go with them? - nodding his head, asked the old woman Izergil.

Time bent it in half, black once the eyes were dim and got drunk. Her dry voice sounded strange, he crunched, exactly the old woman spoke to the bones.

"I don't want," I replied to her.

- Yeh! .. Old people will be born, Russian. Gloomy, everything, like the demons ... They fear you our girls ... But you are young and strong ...

The moon rose. Her disc was great, blood-shred, she seemed to be released from the depths of this steppe, which in his century so much swallowed human meat and drank blood, which is probably such a fat and generous. We fell lace shadows from foliage, I and the old woman were covered with them as a network. On the steppe, to the left of us, floated the shadows of the clouds, soaked with the blue shine of the moon, they became transparent and light.

- Look, Won goes Larra!

I watched the old woman pointed his trembling hand with the curves with my fingers, and saw the shadows sailed there, there were a lot of them, and one of them, the dark and thicker than others, sailed faster and below the sisters, - she fell from the cloud shred, which Floored closer to Earth than others, and rather than they.

- No one there! - I said.

- You are blind more than me, old women. Look - won, dark, runs the steppe!

I looked still and did not see anything, except for the shadows.

- This is a shadow! Why are you calling her Larra?

- Because it is he. He has already become like a shadow, - it's time! He lives thousands of years, the sun dried his body, blood and bones, and the wind spat them. That's what God can make with a person for pride! ..

- Tell me how it was! - I asked the old woman, feeling ahead one of the glorious fairy tales folded in the steppes. And she told me this fairy tale.

"Many thousand years have passed since that time it happened. Far behind the sea, at the sunrise, there is a country of a big river, in the country every wood leaf and grass stem gives as much shadow as you need a person to hide in it from the sun, severely hot there.

That's what a generous land in that country!

A mighty tribe of people lived there, they grazed herd and hunt for beasts spent their strength and courage, drank after hunting, sang songs and played with girls.

Once, during the pyr, one of them, black-haired and gentle, like the night, took the eagle, descending from the sky. The arrows fleeing into it with men fell, miserable, back to the ground. Then we went to look for a girl, but did not find it. And forgot about her, how to forget about everything on Earth. "

The old woman sighed and silent. Her creak voice sounded as if it was rushed with all the forgotten centuries, embodied in her breast with the shadows of memories. The sea quietly fired the beginning of one of the ancient legends, which may be created on his shores.

"But in twenty years, she herself came, exhausted, withered, and he had a young man, beautiful and strong, as she herself was twenty years ago. And when she was asked where she was, she said that the eagle took her to the mountains and lived with her, as with his wife. Here is his son, but the father is no longer; When he began to weaken, then rose the last time high in the sky and, folding the wings, fell heavily from there to the sharp ledges of the mountain, crashed themselves about them ...

Everyone was looking to surprise on the son of an eagle and saw that he was no better than them, only his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds. And they talked to him, and he answered, if he wanted, or was silent, and when the oldest tribes came, he spoke with them, as with equal himself. It insulted them, and by calling him an intereled arrow with a nervous tip, they told him that their honor, they obey thousands of such as he, and thousands twice as older than him. And he, boldly looking at them, answered that such as he, no more; And if everything is honored - he does not want to do this. Oh! .. Then they really became completely angry. Angry and said:

- He has no place among us! Let go where wants.

He laughed and went where he wanted to him, - to one beautiful girl who looked at him intently; I went to her and, approaching, hugged her. And she was a daughter of one of the foreman who condemned him. And, although he was handsome, she pushed him away, because he was afraid of his father. She pushed him away, and he went away, and he hit her and, when she fell, rose her legs on her chest, so that from her mouth blood splashed to the sky, the girl, sighing, wriggled the snake and died.

All those who saw it accumulated fear, - for the first time as they killed a woman so much. And for a long time, everyone was silent, looking at her, lying with open eyes and a bloody mouth, and on him who stood alone against everyone, and was proud, - did not lower his head, as if causing a punishment to her. Then, when they got dragged, they grabbed him, tied up and so left, finding what to kill now - too simple and will not satisfy them. "

The night grew and fastened, folling with strange, quiet sounds. Susliki was sad in the steppe, a glass dwarfger of grasshoppers, foliage sighed and whispered, full of moon disk, before the bloody-red, was pale, removing from the ground, pale and all richly lied in the steppe bluish Molu ...

"And so they gathered to come up with a penalty, a decent crime ... I wanted to ruin him with horses - and it seemed few to them; Thought to put in him all over the arrow, but rejected and it; offered to burn it, but the smoke of the fire would not allow to see his torment; They offered a lot - and did not find anything so good to like everyone. And his mother stood in front of them on his knees and was silent, not finding neither tears, nor words to beg about mercy. They talked for a long time, and here one sage said, thinking long:

- I ask him why he did it? Asked him about it. He said:

- Unleash me! I will not talk connected! And when untied him, he asked:

- What you need? - asked, for sure they were slaves ...

"You heard ..." said the sage.

- Why will I explain to you my actions?

- To be understood by us. You, proud, listen! Anyway, you die after all ... Let us understand what you did. We stay to live, and it is useful for us to know more than we know ...

- Well, I will say, although I may not understand what happened. I killed her therefore, it seems to me - that she pushed me off ... And I needed it.

« Old Isergil"In essence, three different stories: two fantastic legends with a pretty superficial meaning and the history of the life of the old woman story. Two legends stories are more like parables, about the dangers of pride and, accordingly, about the real sacrifice of a person for the common goal. The two of these narrator became a real classic, especially about the "burning heart of Danko." Who only does not pronounce this expression on the topic and no. The meaning of both stories lies on the surface itself. As for the history of the life of the story, this is a rather interesting story about life adventures and love dramas.

The main concept of the story: live outside of people and for yourself (Larra) - live with people, but for yourself (Izergil) - live with people and for people (Danko)

Legend of Larre

The hero of the first legend, told by the old woman, - Larra, the son of a woman and an eagle. It only looks like a person, while being a diesel driver and opposing life itself. Thoughtless following the instinct, the desire to achieve the goal at all costs, the existence, deprived of the past and the future - all this devices pride and beauty, originally inherent in Larre. He is embodied confouplessness: only he thinks perfect and destroyed by him. Larra is deprived of human destiny: he does not die, but ceases to be. The attempt of suicide is unsuccessful: the Earth is removed from his blows. Everything that remains from it is the shadow and the name "rejected". The fate of Larra defined the human court. It is alone and rejection from people bitter sees the worst punishment.

Legend of Danko

In the steppes, the people of one tribe lived in the steppes. Then another tribe came and expelled people into the forest. The tribe could not go back to the steppe but, and ahead was a dangerous forest with poisonous swamps. Suddenly, Danko appeared among people to spend people through the forest to another steppe. On the way, people called him on him and wanted to kill, but Danko snatched a flaming heart from her breast and brought people to another steppe after which he died. And one cautious man touched his heart and it crumbled into the sparks.

Old woman Izergil listen online

The retelling of the oldest isergil. Maksim Gorky

Summary of the story "Old Woman Izergil"

The storyteller heard these stories on the sea coast in Bessarabia, from the old woman Izergil. Moon climbed, and the shadows from running clouds went along the steppe. The old woman said that he sees Larru, who turned into a shadow, and told this fairy tale.

Many years ago, in the generous country, a mighty tribe of the cattle breeders lived. " Once a beautiful girl from this tribe stole an eagle. They got sick about her and forgotten, and in twenty it returned, she was a young man, beautiful and strong. She told that she was an eagle wife. Everyone was watched with surprise on the son of the eagle, but he did not differ from others, only his eyes were cold and proud, like his father.

He considered himself extraordinary, and talked arrogantly even with the elders. People got angry and expelled him from the tribe. He laughed, went to a beautiful girl, a daughter of one of the elders, and hugged her. She pushed him down, and then he killed her. The young man grabbed and tied up, but did not kill, considering it for him too easy death. Talking with him, people realized that "he considers himself the first on earth and, except for himself, does not see anyone." And then the tribe decided to punish him with loneliness.

The young man called Larroy, which means "rejected". The young man began to live alone, occasionally kidding the tribe of cattle and girls. It was shot from Luke, but he was invulnerable. So passed dozens of years. But one day he approached people closely, rushed to him, and he stood without defending. Then people realized that he wanted to die, and did not touch him. Then he grabbed the knife and hit himself in the chest, but the knife broke like a stone. People understood that he could not die. Since then, he walks like a shadow, waiting for death. "He has no life, and death does not smile at him. And there is no place among people. That's how a person was defeated for pride! "

A beautiful song flew in the night. The old woman asked if the interlocutor had anyone ever had such a beautiful singing? He adversely blew his head, and Izergil confirmed that he would never hear this. "Only beauties can sing well, - beauties who love life!" The old woman began to remember how in the youth she all day of the fabric carpets, and ran at night to his beloved. The narrator looked at the old woman: "Her black eyes were still dim, they did not revive the memories. The moon covered her dry, cracked lips, pointed chin with gray hair on it and wrinkled nose, swept, like beak owls. There were black pits on the spot, and in one of them lay a strand of ash-gray hair, embarrassed from under the red cloth, which was wrapped by her head. The skin on the face, neck and hands are all cut with wrinkles. "

She told that she lived at the sea itself in Fari with his mother. Izergil was fifteen years old when "high, flexible, black, funny man" appeared in their territories. Izergil loved him. Four days later she already belonged to him. He was a fisherman with a rod. The fisherman called Izergil with him on the Danube, but by that time she had already sought him.

Then the girlfriend introduced her with curly, Rye Gutsul. It was sometimes gentle and sad, and sometimes, like a beast, roared and fought. She went to Hutsul, and the fisherman burned for a long time and cried her about her. Then he joined Gutsulami and started his other. They already wanted to go to the Carpathians, and went on a visit to one Romanu. There they grabbed them, and after - hung. Romanian was revenged: the farm burned, and he became a beggar. The narrator guess what I am doing Ispergil, but on his question the old woman evasively replied that she was not alone, she wanted to take revenge.

Then Izergil remembered how Turka loved. He had in a harem in a scunt. For a whole week I lived, and then began to miss. The Turku had a sixteen-year-old son, with him Izergil and ran away from Harem to Bulgaria. There, jealous Bulgarian wounded her with a knife. Izergil was treated in the women's monastery, from where she went to Poland, grabbing a young nurse. To the question of the interlocutor, what happened to the young tour, with whom she ran away from Harem, Izergil replied that he died from longing to house or from love.

Pole-monk was humiliated, and she once threw him into the river. It was difficult for her in Poland. She fell into Kabalu to Zhid, who traded her. Then she loved one pan with a chopped face. He defended the Greeks, his face was burned in this struggle. She added: "In life, you know, you always have a place of feats. And those who do not find them - lazy and panties. "

Then there was Magyar, later killed. And "her last game is a gentry." Beautiful very, and Izergil was already forty years old. Pan on his knees asked her love, but having achieved, immediately threw. Then he fought with the Russians and captured, and Izergil saved him, killing the watch. Pan Lgal Izergil, which will love her forever, but she pushed a "false dog" and arrived in Moldova, where he lives for thirty years. She had a husband, but a year ago died. She lives among young people who love her fairy tales.

The night came, and Izergil asked her interlocutor if he sees the sparks in the steppe? "These sparks from the burning heart of Danko". The narrator sat and waited when Izergil starts his new fairy tale.

"Some people lived on Earth. The impassable forests surrounded their tubs from three sides, and with the fourth - there was a steppe. " But conquerors came and drove them into the depths of the old and dense forest with swamps, from which mortal SMRArad rose. And people began to die. They "they already wanted to go to the enemy and bring him to the will of their will, and no one, afraid of death, was not afraid of slave life. But here came Danko and saved everyone alone. "

Danko persuaded people to go through the forest. People looked at Danko, realized that he was the best, and went after him. The path was difficult, the strength and determination of people melted each day. The thunderstorm began, people were exhausted. They were ashamed to confess their weakness, and they decided to relyze the malice at Danko. They said that he would not be able to bring them out of the forest. Danko called them weak, and people decided to kill him. He realized that they would die without him. "And his heart flashed the fire of desire to save them, to bring them on the light path, and then the rays of the mighty fire spurled in his eyes. And they, seeing it, thought that he was smashed "and began to surround Danko, so that it was easier to kill him. "And suddenly he ripped his chest with his hands and pulled his heart out of her and highly raised him above his head."

The heart brightly illuminated the forest with a love torch for people, and they hit the act of Danko, rushed after him, and suddenly the forest ended. People saw the radiant step in front of them. They had fun, and Danko fell and died. "One cautious person, something fearing, stepped on the burning heart of Danko, and it crumbled in sparks and fad." But where in the steppe these blue lights appearing in front of a thunderstorm.

The old woman, tired by the stories, fell asleep, and the sea was noisy and noisy ...

Analysis of the story of the old woman Izergil Gorky M.

The story of M. Gorky "Staruha Izergil" was written in 1895, the author himself recognized in a letter to A.P. Chekhov is that he considers him the most slender and beautiful work. A distinctive feature of the story is the presence of a narrator hero. Such a manner is called "fabulous" and was often used by a writer to create the effect of the accuracy of the events described.

At the very beginning of the work, a romantic picture of the sea and vineyards is drawn, against the background of which the company is described by happy and cheerful people returning from work on the vineyards.

The mood of people is harmonized with the decele of the surrounding world. Everything around resembles a fairy tale.

The old woman Izergil tells the hero of several stories, two of which are opposed to each other in the structure of the story. This legend of Larre and Legend of Danko.

Larra is a fabulous young man born from earthly woman and eagle. It differs from ordinary people by the fact that "his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds." He refused to obey the elders in the tribe. The motive of the tragic junction of the legend is already scheduled for a bloody landscape, which anticipates the first appearance of the name Larra in the story: "The Luna rushed. Her disc was great, blood-shred, she seemed to be released from the depths of this steppe, which in his century so much swallowed human meat and drank blood, which is probably such a fat and generous. " Larru was expelled from the human tribe for pride and egoism. That he killed a girl before leaving, who pushed him.

For the legend, there is everyday wisdom: the Egoist himself voluntarily encourages himself for loneliness. God punished Larr immortality, and he himself was tired of his loneliness: "In his eyes, so many longing that could be poisoned by all the people of the world."

The second legend is dedicated to Danko - a man who brought people from the captivity of impassable forests. To illuminate the path, the hero did not regret her own heart and pulled it out of his chest.

The artistic space in the story is transformed according to the laws of the genre of the fairy tales: "And so suddenly the forest was interquered before him, I was broken and left behind, tight and dumb, and Danko and all those people immediately plunged into the sea of \u200b\u200bsunlight and clean air, washed with rain."

Seeing that he saved people, Danko laughed proudly, but his pride had nothing to do with the pride of Larra: he fulfilled his cherished desire - saved people at the cost of his own life, made a feat. Altruistic act of Danko and selfishness of Larra - extremes. It is not by chance that it is between these legends there is a realistic story about the life of the oldest Izergil about his youth, about how this golden time is irrevocably passes. Izergil fell in love more than once and after the end of the love story never met with those who loved.

Looking at the desired life an old woman hard to believe that once she was a beautiful girl. The youth went away, she came to change wisdom. It is not by chance that the speeches are often found in the speech of the Aphorisms: "To live - you need to be able to do something," "In life, you know, there is always a place of the feats", "Everyone's fate itself!". With pain in the heart realizes Izergil his old age. Remembering the whole life and comparing the past and the present, she notes that there were fewer beautiful and strong people in the world.

The story ends, as he began, landscape, but this is not the romantic landscape that we see at the beginning, and sad and deserted: "In the steppe was quiet and dark. In the sky, all crawled clouds, slowly, boring ... the sea noisily rooted and sad. " This landscape relates to the old age of Izergil. In the life of women were and joys, there were treason: egoism and altruism acted alternately in her fate.

In one work, the writer matches the realistic and romantic manner of the narration. The story accumulates Gorky ideas about the guise of human life, thinking about the meaning of being and beauty of this world.

Characteristics of the image of Larry

Larra - Egoist. Makes "feats" requiring determination and fearlessness, he is firm in defending his right to "be the first on earth". But all his strength and aspirations are only for his personal benefit. Immormal pride, vast selflessness, extreme individualism, justifying any rigidity, indifference - all this causes only horror and anger in people.

The legend of Larre is included in the first part of the story, but is a complete work that is inextricably linked with the general theme and idea. He told the story of the terrible fate of Larra's old woman Izergil. Probably, she heard a legend from his mother, and she - from his own, so he lives this instructive tale of a thousand years, warning people from evil selflessness and indifference. The legend begins with a peculiar zeal, turning into the exhibition: "Many thousand years have passed since this happened. Far behind the sea, at the sunrise, there is a country of a big river ... There was a mighty tribe of people, they grazed her herd and hunting for beasts spent their strength and courage, drank after hunting, sang songs and played with girls. "

Larra - Son of a woman and eagle. Mother led him to people in the hope that he would happily live among the like herself. Larra was the same as everyone, "only his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds." The young man did not respect anyone, did not listen to anyone, kept himself arrogant and proudly. It was strength, and beauty, but he repelled from him pride and coldness. Larra led himself among people, as animals lead in the herd, where everything is allowed to be the strongest. He kills the "pinile" girl right in front of the entire tribe, without knowing that thereby signs his sentence to be rejected the rest of his life. The angry people decided that: "Punishment to him - in himself itself! "," Let him go, gave him freedom.

From Larra retreated land and sky, life and death. Now life for him is a continuous torment, since the most embossed egoist and selflessness cannot bear eternal loneliness. It wanders the dark shadow in the light, turning into darkness and horror. It's not warm, not fire, not a spark of good he left on Earth, but emptiness and fear.

The heroes of the romantic works of Gorky are exceptional people. A positive hero is a carrier of all virtues, negative - all vices. Danko is a young handsome man. Izergil says beautiful always bold. But after all, Larra handsome and dare. The difference is that Danko is harmonious, it is beautiful internally and externally. Larra is internally ugly. The criterion of beauty or disgrace is the ability to love. Danko is endowed with exceptional love for people, Larra - exceptional love for himself.

"That's how a person was struck for pride," the Staruha Ispergiel concludes his story about Larre.

Characteristic of the image of Danko

An image of Danko. Proud, "the best of all" man, Danko died for people. At the heart of the old-told Izergil legend, an ancient legend of a person who saved people, indicating the path from the impassable forest. Danko possessed a volitional character: the hero did not want to robust life for his tribe and at the same time understood that people would not be able to live in the depths of the forest for a long time, without the usual space for them, light. Peaceful resistance, internal wealth, true perfection in biblical legends was embodied in externally beautiful people. That was how the ancient desire of a person about spiritual and physical beauty was expressed: "Danko is one of those people, young handsome man. Beautiful - always bold. " Danko believes in its own strength, so it does not want to spend them "on the Duma and longing." The hero seeks to bring people from the darkness of the forest to freedom, where much heat and light. Having a volitional character, Danko takes on the role of the leader, and people "everyone went together for him - believed in it." The hero is not afraid of difficulties during a difficult way, but he did not consider the weakness of people who soon "began to grow", since they did not have the resistance of Danko and did not have a solid force of will. The culmination episode of the narrative was the scene of the court over Danko, when people tired by the severity of the roads, hungry, tired and evil, began to accuse their leader in everything: "You are a negligible and harmful person for us! You told us and tired, and for it you will deceive! " Without making difficulties, people began to shift responsibility from themselves to Danko, wanting to find the guilty of their misfortunes. The hero, unselfishly loving people, understanding that everything would die without him, "he ripped his chest to his hands and pulled his heart out of her and raised him high above his head." Lighting the dark path from the impassable forest with his heart, Danko brought people from darkness, where "the sun shone, the steppe sighed, glistened her grass in the rain diagrants and gold glitter." Danko proudly looked at the picture that opened before him and died. The author calls his hero Gordem Mobbled, who died for people. The final episode makes the reader think over the moral side of the figure of the hero: Whether the death of Danko was dismissed, whether people of such a victim are worthy. An image of a cautious man, who appeared in the epilogue of the narrative, frightened something and the coming "on the proud heart of the foot". The writer characterizes Danko as a better person. Indeed, the main features of the character of the hero are soulful resistance, the power of the will, unfortunately, the desire to serve people without fail. Danko sacrificed his life not only for the sake of those whom he brought out of the forest, but for himself: he could not do differently, the hero needed to help people. The feeling of love filled the heart of Danko, it was an integral part of his nature, so M. Gorky calls the hero "the best of all". Researchers celebrate the connection of the image of Danko with Moses, Promethem and Jesus Christ. The name of Danko is associated with the single words "tribute", "ladies", "giving". The most important words of a proud person in legend: "What do I do for people?!"

The idea of \u200b\u200bthe feat in the name of general happiness in the story of M. Gorky "Old Woman Izergil"

1. Danko as an ideal hero.

2. Purpose of Danko.

3. Contact the hero and crowd.

In his work, writers often refer to the topic of the feat. Heroic actions of people cannot but cause admiration. The feat can be viewed from these positions. But the human consciousness is arranged in such a way that any act can be interpreted in two ways. And the idea of \u200b\u200bthe feat in this case is no exception. In the story of M. Gorky "old woman Izergil" just considers the feat in the name of general happiness. The writer responds to this very important question of the legend of Danko, a hero who gave his heart for others. At first glance, the act of Danko deserves respect and genuine admiration.

Danko is flawless. It is very profitable from everyone who surrounds him. Danko does not think about himself, he lives the interests of others, wants to change the life of his tribesmen. Danko personifies the revolutionary, a person who does not want to live on the rules and stood, which were created long before his birth. If we take into account the features of the era in which I had a chance to live and create M. Gorky, it becomes clear why it attracted the image of the Danko revolutionary.

The writer deliberately idealizes Danko, makes it impeccable. The hero lives for the moment when he can take a feat in the name of general happiness. True, he is not thinking about whether this feat is worthy of this feat? Maybe they completely satisfied that life that did not change very long time? Maybe any changes scare and grieve them?

The purpose of the Danko Hero is to transform the world. In the context of the legend, told Gorky, Danko wanted to make his tribesmen happy, bring them out of a dark gloomy forest so that they live on a light sunny place. In order to find a path in the darkness, Danko sacrifices with his heart. It illuminates the path, and weak, the unfortunate tribesmen of the hero find the road. The hero dies, and no one thinks about him to regret. On the one hand, Danko is sorry for himself. The young, not indifferent man dies in the heyday. On the other hand, he did not have other prospects. Danko did not suit everydayness, life as a gray existence seemed unacceptable to him. Otherwise, he would not want to go into such a risky journey. Yes, no doubt, he did a lot for his tribesmen. He brought them out of the darkness, showed the way to happiness.

People like Danko live for the sake of the sake of this short blister. Only, they understand the meaning of their lives. They do not bother life, on the contrary, readily part with her, leaving the legends about themselves for the century.

It is not by chance that the tribesmen did not like Danko too much. They felt danger in it. And were right. Danko, on the contrary, did not understand them. He lived for the future, light and beautiful. And those surrounding lived today. And the faces of the present seemed much more important to them than the ghostly happiness of the future.

Did the victim of Danko surrounding? Maybe not. At least, the tribesmen of the hero did not realize that they need it. However, it is possible to say with confidence that Danko's death was not in vain. He showed his act that there are people for whom general happiness is more important than their own life.

Maksim Gorky

OLD ISERGIL

I heard these stories under Akkerman, in Bessarabia, on the sea shore.
One evening, king the daytime collection of grapes, the Moldovan party, with which I worked, went to the seashore, and I and the old woman Izergil remained under the thick shadow of grape vines and, lying on the ground, silent, looking like melting in the blue night of the night silhouettes People who went to the sea.
They walked, sang and laughed; Men are bronze, with lush, black mustache and dense curls to shoulders, in short jackets and wide harshs; Women and girls are cheerful, flexible, with dark blue eyes, also bronze. Their hair, silk and black, were dissolved, the wind, warm and lightweight, playing them, stalked with coins woven into them. Wind tech is a wide, smooth wave, but sometimes he exactly jumped through something invisible and, giving birth to a strong impulse, waved the hair of women in fantastic mane, raised around their heads. It made women strange and fabulous. They went farther from us, and the night and fantasy dressed them more beautifully.
Someone played a violin ... Girl sang soft contracete, I heard a laugh ...
The air was impregnated with a sharp smell of the sea and the fat evaporation of the Earth, shortly before the evening abundantly moistened with the rain. Also, the cluster, magnificent, strange outlines and paints were wandered across the sky, here - soft, like smoke clubs, gray and ash-blue, there are sharp, like fragments of rocks, matte-black or brown. Between them gently glittered dark blue shles of the sky, decorated with golden starpic stars. All this is the sounds and smells, clouds and people - it was strangely beautiful and sad, seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful fairy tale. And everything as it were in his height, dying; The noise of Gas votes, removing, reborn into sad sighs.
- What didn't you go with them? - nodding his head, asked the old woman Izergil.
Time bent it in half, black once the eyes were dim and got drunk. Her dry voice sounded strange, he crunched, exactly the old woman spoke to the bones.
"I don't want," I replied to her.
- Yeh! .. Old people will be born, Russian. Gloomy, everything, like the demons ... They fear you our girls ... But you are young and strong ...
The moon rose. Her disc was great, blood-shred, it seemed from the depths of this steppe, which in his century so much absorbed human meat and drank blood, which, probably, became so fat and generous. We fell lace shadows from foliage, I and the old woman were covered with them as a network. On the steppe, to the left of us, floated the shadows of the clouds, soaked with the blue shine of the moon, they became transparent and light.
- Look, Won goes Larra!
I watched the old woman pointed his trembling hand with the curves with my fingers, and saw the shadows sailed there, there were a lot of them, and one of them, the dark and thicker than others, sailed faster and below the sisters, - she fell from the cloud shred, which Floored closer to Earth than others, and rather than they.
- No one there! - I said.
- You are blind more than me, old women. Look - won, dark, runs the steppe!
I looked still and did not see anything, except for the shadows.
- This is a shadow! Why are you calling her Larra?
-Well that it is he. He has already become now as a shadow, - Nopal he lives thousands of years, the sun dried his body, blood and bones, and the wind spat them. That's what God can make with a person for pride! ..
- Tell me how it was! - I asked the old woman, feeling ahead one of the glorious fairy tales folded in the steppes.
And she told me this fairy tale.

"Many thousand years have passed since that time it happened. Far behind the sea, at the sunrise, there is a country of a big river, in the country every wood leaf and grass stem gives as much shadow as you need a person to hide in it from the sun, severely hot there.
That's what a generous land in that country!
A mighty tribe of people lived there, they grazed herd and hunt for beasts spent their strength and courage, drank after hunting, sang songs and played with girls.
Once, during the pyr, one of them, black-haired and gentle, like the night, took the eagle, descending from the sky. The arrows fleeing into it with men fell, miserable, back to the ground. Then we went to look for a girl, but did not find it. And forgot about it, how to forget about everything on Earth. "
The old woman sighed and silent. Her creak voice sounded as if it was rushed with all the forgotten centuries, embodied in her breast with the shadows of memories. The sea quietly fired the beginning of one of the ancient legends, which may be created on his shores.
"But in twenty years, she herself came, exhausted, withered, and he had a young man, beautiful and strong, as she herself was twenty years ago. And when she was asked where she was, she said that the eagle took her to the mountains and lived with her, as with his wife. Here is his son, and the father is no longer the weaker, then he rose at the last time high in the sky and, folding the wings, he fell heavily from there to the sharp ledges of the mountain, crashed themselves about them ...
Everyone was looking to surprise on the son of an eagle and saw that he was no better than them, only his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds. And they talked to him, and he answered, if he wanted, or was silent, and when the oldest tribes came, he spoke with them, as with equal himself. It insulted them, and by calling him an intereled arrow with a nervous tip, they told him that their honor, they obey thousands of such as he, and thousands twice as older than him. And he, boldly looking at them, answered that such as he, no more; And if everything is honored - he does not want to do this. Oh! .. Then they really became completely angry. Angry and said:
- He has no place among us! Let go where wants.
He laughed and went where he wanted to him, - to one beautiful girl who looked at him intently; I went to her and, approaching, hugged her. And she was a daughter of one of the foreman who condemned him. And, although he was handsome, she pushed him away, because he was afraid of his father. She pushed him away, and he went away, and he hit her and, when she fell, rose her legs on her chest, so that from her mouth blood splashed to the sky, the girl, sighing, wriggled the snake and died.
All those who saw it accumulated fear, - for the first time as they killed a woman so much. And for a long time, everyone was silent, looking at her, lying with open eyes and a bloody mouth, and on him who stood alone against everyone, and was proud, - did not lower his head, as if causing a punishment to her. Then, when they got dragged, they grabbed him, tied up and so left, finding what to kill now - too simple and will not satisfy them. "
The night grew and fastened, folling with strange, quiet sounds. Susliki was sad in the steppe, a glass dwarfger of grasshoppers, foliage sighed and whispered, full of moon disk, before the bloody-red, was pale, removing from the ground, pale and all richly lied in the steppe bluish Molu ...
"And so they gathered to come up with a penalty, a decent crime ... I wanted to ruin him with horses - and it seemed few to them; Thought to put in him all over the arrow, but rejected and it; offered to burn it, but the smoke of the fire would not allow to see his torment; They offered a lot - and did not find anything so good to like everyone. And his mother stood in front of them on his knees and was silent, not finding neither tears, nor words to beg about mercy. They talked for a long time, and here one sage said, thinking long:
- I ask him why he did it?
Asked him about it. He said:
- Unleash me! I will not talk connected!
And when untied him, he asked:
- What you need? - asked, for sure they were slaves ...
"You heard ..." said the sage.
- Why will I explain to you my actions?
- To be understood by us. You, proud, listen! Anyway, you die after all ... Let us understand what you did. We stay to live, and it is useful for us to know more than we know ...
- Well, I will say, although I may not understand what happened. I killed her therefore, it seems to me - that she pushed me off ... And I needed it.
- But she is not yours! - told him.
- Do you use only your own? I see that every person has only speech, hands and feet ... And he owns animals, women, earth ... and many more ...
He was told on this that for everything that a man takes, he pays himself: his mind and strength, sometimes - life. And he answered that he wants to keep himself entire.
Long told him and finally saw that he considers himself the first on earth and, except for himself, he sees anything. Everyone was even scary, when they understood what kind of loneliness he commocated himself. He had no tribe, nor mother, no cattle, no wife, and he did not want anything of it.
When people saw it, they again began to judge how to punish him. But now they talked for a long time, - he, wise who did not interfere with him to judge, spoke himself:
- Stand! Punishment is. This is a terrible sentence; You do not invent such a thousand years! Punishment to him - in him itself! Let him, let him be free. Here is his punishment!
And then the great one happened. He hit the thunder from heaven, - although they were not clouded. This is the forces of heaven confirmed the speech of the wise. All bowed and diverged. And this young man who has now received the name of Larra, which means: rejected, thrown out, - the young man laughs loudly after people who threw him laughing, staying alone, free as his father. But his father was not a man ... And this one was a man. And so he began to live, free, like a bird. He came to the tribe and stolen cattle, girls - everything that wanted. It was shot, but the arrows could not pierce his bodies, closed by the invisible cover of the highest pitch. He was deft, preached, Silen, cruel and did not meet with people face to face. Only published seen it. And for a long time he, lonely, so rushed near people, for a long time - more than a dozen years. But once he came close to people and, when they rushed to him, did not touch him and did not show anything to defend themselves. Then one of the people guessed and shouted loudly:
- Do not touch him! He wants to die!
And everyone stopped, not wanting to alleviate the fate of one who did evil, not wanting to kill him. Stopped and laughing at him. And he trembled, hearing this laughter, and everything was looking for something on his chest, grabbing her with his hands. And suddenly he rushed to people, raising the stone. But they, evading his blows, did not cause him a single one, and when he, tired, with a dreary cry fell to Earth, they moved away and watched him. So he got up and, raising the knife lost by someone in the fight, hit his chest. But the knife broke down - they hit them exactly in the stone. And again he fell to the ground and he fought his head for a long time. But the earth was removed from him, deepening from his head blows.
- He can't die! - Joy said people.
And left, leaving him. He lay down the face and saw the mighty eagles in the sky in the sky. In his eyes, there were so many longing that could be poisoned by all the people of the world. So, since then he remained alone, free, waiting for death. And now he walks, walks everywhere ... See, he has already become like a shadow and there will be forever! He does not understand the speech of people nor their actions - nothing. And everything is looking for, walks, walks ... he has no life, and death does not smile at him. And there is no place among people ... That's how a person was struck for pride! "
The old woman sighed, silent, and her head, dropping on his chest, swung strange several times.
I looked at her. Old woman defeated sleep, it seemed to me. And for some reason it sorry for her scary. The end of the story she led such a sublime, threatening tone, and yet in this tone was the fearless, slave note.
On the shore of Palm, - strangely soldered. At first there was a contrast, - he died two or three notes, and a different voice rang out, who began a song at first and the first one was still ahead of him ... - Third, the fourth, the fifth joined the song in the same order. And suddenly the same song, again, at first, the choir of men's votes.
Every voice sounded completely separately, they all seemed to be multi-colored streams and, exactly rolling from somewhere on the ledge, jumping and linking, jumped into a thick wave of men's voices, smoothly drunk up, drowned in her, broke out of her, drove her and again One after another was spawned, clean and strong, high up.
Noise Waves was not heard by voices ...

Did you hear somewhere else sang? - asked Ispergil, raising his head and smiling to a toothless mouth.
- I did not hear. Never heard ...
- And you will not hear. We love to sing. Just handsome can sing well, - handsome people who love to live. We love to live. Watch, isn't it tired for the day those who sing there? From sunrise, the sunset worked, the moon rose, and already - sing! Those who do not know how to live, lay down to sleep. Those with the life of Mila, so they sing.
"But health ..." I started.
- Health is always enough for life. Health! Do you, having money, would not spend them? Health is the same gold. Do you know what I did when was young? I cailed carpets from sunset, without getting up almost. I, like a sunbeam, was living and it was supposed to sit still, just a stone. And sat before, it happened, all the bones are cracking. And how the night will come, I fled to the one who loved, kissing with him. And so I ran three months while there was love; All nights of this time had been from him. And so that pore lived - enough blood! And how much loved! How many kisses took and gave! ..
I looked at her face. Her black eyes were still dim, they did not revive the memories. The moon illuminated her dry, cracked lips, pointed chin with gray hair on it and a wrinkled nose, swept, like beak owls. On the scene of the cheek were black pits, and in one of them lay a strand of ashes-gray hair, who embarrassed from under the red rag, who was wrapped up her head. The skin on the face, the neck and the hands are all cut with wrinkles, and with each movement of the oldestrigill one could wait for the dry skin, it will break off all the skeletons and prevents a naked skeleton with dull black eyes.
She began to tell her crisp again:
- I lived with my mother under Falie, on the very shore of the rude; And I was fifteen years old when he appeared to our khutor. He was so tall, flexible, black, cheerful. He sits in a boat and so he shouts into the windows: "Hey, do you have wine ... and eat me?" I looked out into the window through the branches of the ash and see: the rock is all blue from the moon, and he, in a white shirt and in a wide quusha with the ends, standing in the boat, and the other on the shore. And swayed, and sings something. I saw me, says: "That's what kind of beauty lives here! .. And I did not know about it!" I just knew all the beauties before me! I gave him wines and boiled pork ... And four days later I already gave all myself ... We all rode them in the boat at night. He will come and will post quietly, like Suslik, and I emphasize like a fish, in the window on the river. And we are going ... He was a fisherman from the rod, and then when the mother found out about everything and beat me, persuaded everyone to leave me to Dobrudju and then, in Danube Girla. But I really didn't like then - only sings yes kissing, nothing more! Bored it was already. At that time, Hutsules walked in the same place, and they had kind of kind ... So it was fun. Other is waiting for his carpathian well done, it thinks that he is already in prison or killed somewhere in a fight, - and suddenly he is alone, and with two-three comrades, as from the sky, will fall to her. Gifts made rich - it all got it all! And she drinks, and praises her before his comrades. And her anyone is. I asked for one girlfriend, who was Gutsul, show them them ... How was her called? I forgot how ... everything began to forget now. Much time passed since then, all forget! She introduced me to a young man. It was good ... Redhead was, all redheads - and mustache and curls! Fire head. And he was so sad, sometimes affectionate, and sometimes, like a beast, roared and fought. Once I hit me in my face ... And I, like a cat, jumped into his chest, and he dug his teeth on the cheek ... Since then, he became a jam on his cheek, and he loved when I kissed her ...
- And where did the fisherman go? - I asked.
- Fisherman? And he ... here ... He stuck to them, to Gutsulami. At first, everyone persuaded me and threatened to throw in the water, and then - nothing, she was stuck to them and the other started ... they were both hanged together - and the fisherman and this hutsula. I went to watch them hung. In Dobrudzhe it was. The fisherman was walking on the execution of pale and crying, and Gutsul was smoked. It goes well and smokes, hands in your pockets, one mustache on the shoulder lies, and the other flourished on the chest. He saw me, took out the phone and shouts: "Goodbye! .." I regret it for a whole year. Eh! .. it was then with them, as they wanted to go to the Carpathians to themselves. For sale, went to one Romanian to visit, they caught them there. Two only, and several killed, and the rest left ... Still Romanan paid after ... The farm burned and the mill and the whole bread. Beginning became.
- Did you do it? - I asked Rudich.
- There were a lot of friends from Hutsulov, not alone I ... who was their best friend, he guailed her acknowledged ...
The song on the seashore was already silent, and the old woman evened now only the noise of sea waves, - thoughtful, rebellious noise was a glorious story about rebellious life. All softer became night, and the blue radiance of the Moon was increasingly rarated, and the uncertain sounds of the troubles of her invisible inhabitants became quieter, drunk by the wave ripped rustle ... for the wind was intensified.
"And then I loved the Turk." In Harem he had, in the scouts. For a whole week, I lived - nothing ... But it became boring ... - All women, women ... Eight had them with him ... The whole day eat, sleep and chatting stupid speeches ... or swear, quoucht, like chicken ... He was a melanoe, this Turk. Sedoy almost and so important, rich. He said - like the Lord ... Eyes were black ... straight eyes ... look straight into the soul. He loved to pray. I saw him in Bukurishti ... walks in the market as the king, and looks so important, it is important. I smiled at him. In the same evening they grabbed me on the street and brought to him. He sold sandals and palm, and I came to buy something in Bukurishti. "Go to me?" - He speaks. "Oh yeah, I will go!" - "Okay!" And I went. Rich he was, this Turk. And his son had already been a black boy, a flexible one ... He had sixteen years old. With him, I ran away from the Turk ... I ran into Bulgaria, in a scrambled eggs ... there I hit my chest for a knife with a knife for the groom or my husband - I do not remember.
I quickly have a long time in the monastery one. Convent. One girl, polka, cared for me, from the monastery of the other, - near the archer-palane, I remember, "my brother walked, too, the nuns ... such ... as a worm, everything was erupted before me ... and when I recovered, then I went with him ... In Poland him.
- Waitant! .. and where is the little Turk?
- Boy? He died, boy. From longing to house or from love ... But he began to dry, as the faster village, who was too much sunbathing ... and sneeze everything ... I remember, it lies, the whole is already transparent and bluish, like ice, and still love burns in it ... And everything asks to lean and kiss him ... I loved him and, I remember, I kissed a lot ... Then he completely became bad - did not move almost. Lies and so complaints like a beggar of alms, asks me to lie next to him and warm him. I went to bed. You lie with him ... He will immediately light up all. Once I woke up, and he is already cold ... dead ... I cried over him. Who will say? Maybe, because I killed him. Twice as older I was then it was too. And there was such a strong, juicy ... And he - what? .. Boy! ..
She sighed and - the first time I saw it with her - crossed three times, whispering something dry lips.
"Well, you went to Poland ..." I suggested to her.
- Yes ... with topics, a small pole. He was funny and sneaky. When he needed a woman, he gave me a cat and with his tongue hot honey tech, and when he did not want me, then clicked me with words like a whip. Once somehow we went on the banks of the river, and so he told me proud, an offensive word. ABOUT! Oh! .. I got angry! I boiled like a resin! I took it on my arms and, like a child, - he was small, - raised up, squeezing him the sides so that he cried the whole. And so I swung and threw it from the shore into the river. He shouted. It shouted funny so much. I looked at him from above, and he floundered there in the water. I left then. And no longer met with him. I was happy for it: never met after with those who once loved. These are bad meetings, anyway, as it were, with the dead.
The old woman fell silent, sighing. I imagined people by her. Here is the fiery-redhead, the Usol Gutsul goes to die, calmly smoking the tube. He probably had cold, blue eyes, who looked at everything fortuedly and firmly. Here is a black fishing fisherman with a rod; Crying, not wanting to die, and on his face, pale from the suicide longing, swept the funny eyes, and the mustache, moistened with tears, were sadly marched at the corners of the curved mouth. Here he, the old, important Turk, probably fatalist and despot, and next to him his son, pale and fragile Flower of the East, poisoned by kisses. But a vain pole, gallant and cruel, eloquent and cold ... and all of them - only the pale shadows, and the one they kissed, sitting next to me, but drained, without a body, without blood, with a heart without desires, with Eyes without fire, is also almost shadow.
She continued:
- It became difficult to me in Poland. Cold and false people live there. I did not know their snake language. All are hissing ... what are hissing? This God gave them such a snake language for the fact that they are false. I went then, not knowing where, and saw how they were going to rebel with you, Russians. Reached to the city of Kochnia. Liquid one bought me; Not for myself bought, but to trade me. I agreed to it. To live - you need to be able to do something. I did not know anything and paid for it. But I thought then that after all, if I would get a little money to grind to myself, I would break the chains, no matter how strong them were. And I lived there. I walked to me rich women and drank from me. It was expensive to them. They fought because of me they were ruined. One sought me for a long time and since what I did; Came, and the servant follows him with a bag. Here Pan picked up that bag and overturned him over my head. Gold coins stuck me on the head, and I had fun to listen to their ringing when they fell on the floor. But I still kicked out Pan. He had such a thick, raw face, and belly - as a big pillow. He looked like a full pig. Yes, I kicked him, although he said that he sold his lands, and at home, and horses to sink me with gold. I then loved one worthy pan with a chopped face. The whole face was peeping the cross-cross-time with the sabers of the Turks, with whom he was short before he fought for the Greeks. Here is a man! .. What is the Greeks, if he is Pole? And he went, fought with them against their enemies. He drove him, he had one eye from shocks, and two fingers on the left hand were also cut down ... What is the Greeks, if he is Pole? But what: he loved feats. And when a person loves feats, he always knows how to do them and find where it is possible. In life, you know, there is always a place of the feats. And those who do not find them for themselves are those just lazy or panties, or do not understand life, because, people people understood life, everyone would wanted to leave behind her shadow in her. And then life would not devour people without a trace ... Oh, this, chopped, was a good man! He was ready to go on the edge of the world to do something. Probably, yours killed him during the rebellion. Why did you go to beat Magyar? Well, well, silent! ..
And, ordering me to be silent, the old Izergil suddenly silence herself, thought.
- I also knew Magyar alone. He once left me, - in winter it was, - and only in the spring, when it became snow, found him in the field with a sneaky head. That's how! You see - no less than the plague go away the love of people; If I calculate - no less ... What did I say? About Poland ... Yes, there I played my last game. I met one gentry ... That was beautiful! Like hell. I was old, Eh, Stara! Was there four decades? Perhaps that it was ... And he was also proud, and was spoiled by us, women. He became expensive to me ... Yes. He wanted to take me rightly so much, but I was not given. I have never been slave, draw. And with the liquid I already finished, a lot of money gave him ... and already in Krakow lived. Then I had everything: both horses, gold, and servants ... He went to me, a proud demon, and he wanted to throw himself in his hands herself. We argued with him ... I even - I remember, "faded from it. It has long been stretching ... I took my own: he kneeling me on his lap ... but only took how he threw. Then I understood that I became old ... oh, it was not sweet! That's not sweet! .. I loved him, this feature ... And he, having met with me, laughed ... He was sad! And another he laughed at me, and I knew it. Well, I was bitterly for me, I will say! But he was here, close, and I still admired them. And how he left to fight with you, the Russians, sick me. I broke myself, but I could not break ... And I decided to go after him. He was near Warsaw, in the forest.
But when I arrived, I learned that you have broken them ... and that he is in captivity, close to the village.
"So, I thought," I will not see it anymore! " And I wanted to see. Well, began to try to see ... Beggar dressed, chrome, and went, tolding a face, in that village, where he was. Everywhere the Cossacks and soldiers ... expensive I was worth being there! I learned where the Poles are sitting, and see that it is difficult to get there. And I needed it. And now I crawled away at night, where they were. The creep between the garden between Groz and see: the clock stands on my road ... And I heard me - they sing Poles and speak loudly. Sing a song one ... to the mother of God ... and he sings there ... Arcadek mine. I was bitterly, as I thought that I used to crawl behind me ... But it was time for me - and I crawled the snake on the ground after a man and, maybe his death. And this watch already listens, arched forward. Well, what am I? I got up from the ground and went to him. I have no knife, nothing but the hands yes of the language. I regret that I did not take a knife. I whisper: "Wait! .." And he, this soldier, already put a bayonet to my throat. I tell him a whisper: "It's not if, wait, listen, if you have a soul! I can not give anything to you, but I ask you ... "He lowered the gun and also says to me:" I went away, Baba! Went! What do you want?" I told him that my son was locked here ... "You understand, a soldier, - Son! You, too, whose son, yes? So look at me - I have the same as you and Won where! Let me look at him, maybe he will die soon ... And maybe you will kill tomorrow ... will your mother cry about you? And after all, it will die hard to die without looking at her, your mother? And my son is hard. I spoke to myself and him, and me - Mother! .. "
Oh, how long I told him! It was raining and urine us. The wind fell and roared, and pushed me into his back, then in the chest. I stood and swinging in front of this stone soldier ... And he said everything: "No!" And every time I heard his cold word, even hotter in me flashed the desire to see Tracker ... I said and measured the eyes of a soldier - he was small, dry and all cough. And so I fell to Earth in front of him and, covering his knees, all the stacing of him with hot words, dumped the soldier to the ground. He fell into dirt. Then I quickly turned his face to Earth and pressed his head in a puddle, so that he did not shout. He did not shout, but only floundered, trying to reset me from his back. I squeezed his head deeper into the dirt. He suffered ... Then I rushed to the barn, where the Poles sang. "Arcadec! .." - I whispered in the slit of the walls. They are awesome, these Poles, - and having heard me, did not stop singing! Here is his eyes against my. "Can you get out of here?" - "Yes, through the floor!" - he said. "Well, go." And here four them got out of this barn: three and arcadek mine. "Where are the sentries?" Asked Arcadek. "Won lies! .." and they went quietly, bent to the ground. The rain was walking, the wind was loud. We left the village and silently walked for a long time. Quickly so walked. Arcadek kept my hand, and his hand was hot and trembled. Oh! .. I was so good with him while he was silent. The last few minutes are the good moments of my greedy life. But we went to the meadow and stopped. They thanked me all four. Oh, how long have they told me something long! I listened and looked at my Pan. What will he do to me? And so he hugged me and said so important ... I do not remember what he said, but it came out that now he is in gratitude for giving him to love me ... And he began his knees before me, smiling, and said Me: "My Queen!" This is what a false dog was! .. Well, then I gave him a kick with my foot and would hit him in my face, but he repaired and jumped up. Grozny and pale stands it before me ... They stand and those three, gloomy all. And everyone is silent. I looked at them ... I was then - I remember - just boring very much, and so lazy attacked me ... I told them: "Go!" They, dogs, asked me: "You turn there, specify our way?" That's what kind of sublit! Well, nevertheless they left. Then I went ... And the next day you took me, but soon let go. Then I saw that it was time for me to start the nest, would live a cuckoo! I have become hard, and we have weakened the wings, and the feathers swept ... It's time! Then I went to Galicia, and from there to Dobrudju. And for about three decades I live here. I had a husband, Moldovan; Died since a year of that time. And I live here! One live ... no, not alone, and ving with those.
The old woman waved his hand to the sea. Everything was quiet there. Sometimes some brief, deceptive sound and died immediately.
- They love me. I tell them a lot of different things. They need it. Still young all ... and I feel good with them. I look and think: "So I was, the time was the same ... Only then, in my time, there was more power and fire in man, and therefore lived more fun and better ... Yes! .."
She silent. I was sad next to her. She dreamed, shaking his head, and quietly whispered something ... maybe prayed.
A cloud rose from the sea - black, heavy, harsh outlines, similar to a mountain range. She crawled into the steppe. The shreds of clouds were broken from her vertices, rushing forward her and quenched the stars one after another. The sea is noisy. Not far from us, in the vines of grapes, kissed, whispered and sighed. Deep in the steppe fell a dog ... The air irritated nerves by a strange smell, tickling the nostrils. From the clouds fell on the ground thick flocks of shadows and crawled along it, crawled, disappeared, were again ... Only a muddy opal spot remained on the place of the moon, sometimes it was completely closed by a nasy cloud shred. And in the steppe, they gave, now black and terrible, as if attached, let's hide something, broken small blue lights. That's there, then they came to the moment and Gasli, just a few people scattered on the steppe from each other, looking for something in her, Ignoring the matches that the wind immediately quenched. These were very strange blue lights of fire, hinting for something fabulous.
- Do you see sparks? - I asked me isergil.
- Those blue? - Pointing her to the steppe, I said.
- Blue? Yes, that's them ... So, they fly after all! Well, well ... I don't see them anymore. I can not see a lot now.
- Where are these sparks? I asked the old woman.
I heard something earlier about the origin of these sparks, but I wanted to listen to how old Izergil tells about the same.
- These sparks from the burning heart of Danko. It was in the light of the heart, which one day broke out ... And here is these sparks. I will tell you about it ... too old fairy tale ... old, all old! See you, how much in the old days? .. And now there is nothing like that - no cases nor people nor fairy tales, as in an older ... Why? .. Well, tell me! Do not say ... What do you know? What do you all know, young? Ahu-heh! .. Would look in an old Zorko - there are all the deposits there ... But you do not look and do not know how to live because I do not see life? Oh, I see everything, albeit my eyes! And I see that people do not live, but everyone is trying on, trying and put on it all their lives. And when they make themselves, I spent time, it will begin to cry on fate. What is the fate? Everyone's fate! I see any people now, but there are no strong! Where are they? .. And the handsome are becoming less and less.
The old woman was thinking about where strong and beautiful people were moved from life, and thinking, examined the dark steppe, as if looking for an answer in it.
I waited for her story and was silent, fearing that if I ask her about anything, she would again disapte the side.
And now she began the story.

"Some people lived on Earth in ancient, impassable forests surrounded the camp of these people from three sides, and the fourth was the steppe. There were funny, strong and bold people. And now it came once a hard time: there were other tribes from somewhere and drove the former into the depths of the forest. There were swamps and darkness, because the forest was old, and so thickly twisted his branches, which was not to see the sky, and the sun's rays could barely pierce their way to the marshes through the thick foliage. But when his rays fell on the water of the swamps, then SMRArad risen, and from him people died one by one. Then they began to cry and children of this tribe began to cry, and the fathers thought and fell into the longing. It was necessary to leave this forest, and for that there were two roads: one - back, - there were strong and evil enemies, the other - forward, there were giant trees, hugging each other with mighty branches, lowering the knotted roots deep into the tenant swamps. These stone trees stood silently and motionless in the afternoon in the gray dusk and even more densely moved around people in the evenings, when fires were lit. And always, in the afternoon and night, around those people was the ring of sturdy darkness, it was exactly going to crush them, and they were accustomed to the steppe just. And there was still scary when the wind beat on the tops of the trees and the whole forest was deaf buzzed, accurately threatened and sang the funeral song to those people. It was still strong people, and could they go fight to death with those that once defeated them, but they could not die in battles, because they had covenants, and if they died, they were missing from them from Life and Covenants. And therefore they sat and thought in long nights, under the deaf noise of the forest, in a poison of a swamp. They sat, and the shadows from the fires jumped around them in a silent dance, and it seemed to everyone that this was not a shade dance, but the evil spirits of the forest and swamps triumph ... people sat and thought. But nothing - neither work, nor a woman exacerbate the body and souls of people as the dreary Duma exacerbate. And weakened people from the spirit ... fear was born among them, fastened to them, horror gave birth to women on the corpses of the dead from the Smrade and over the fate of the living victims, - and the cowardly words began to be heard in the forest, first timid and quiet, and then louder And louder ... I already wanted to go to the enemy and bring him to the will of our will, and no one, afraid of death, was not afraid of slave life ... But here he was Danko and saved everyone alone. "
The old woman, obviously, often talked about the burning heart of Danko. She spoke singers, and her voice, creaky and deaf, clearly painted the noise of the forest, among which died from the poisonous breath of the Marsh Unhappy, drunk people ...
"Danko is one of those people, a young handsome man. Beautiful - always bold. And so he tells them, his comrades:
- Do not hate the stone from the way the dummy. Who does nothing, nothing will become. What do we spend the forces on the Duma and longing? Get up, let's go to the forest and pass through, because it also has an end - everything in the world has the end! Come! Well! Gay! ..
We looked at him and saw that he was the best of all, because in the eyes there was a lot of strength and living fire.
- You lead us! - they said.
Then he led ... "
The old woman was silent and looked into the steppe, where all the tremens of Darkness. The sparkles of the burning heart of Danko broke out somewhere far and seemed like blue air colors, flourishing only for a moment.
"He led to Danko. Everyone went for him - believed in it. Hard way it was! It was dark, and at every step the swamp spoiled her greedy rot, swallowing people, and the trees treated the road by a mighty wall. Intertwined their branches among themselves; As a snake, stretched everywhere roots, and every step cost a lot of sweat and blood to those people. They walked for a long time ... The forest became all the thicker, there was less and less forces! And now they began to rap in Danko, saying that in vain, he, young and inexperienced, led them somewhere. And he walked in front of them and was cheerful and clear.
But one day, the thunderstorm sank over the forest, the trees whispered down, Grozno. And then then in the forest so dark, exactly all nights were gathered in it, how many were in the light of them since then, as he was born. Little people were among the big trees and in the Grozny Noise Noise, they walked, and swashing, the giant trees creaked and buzzed angry songs, and lightning, flying over the tops of the forest, lit up for a moment in blue, cold fire and disappeared as fast, As we were, scaring people. And the trees lit by cold lightning lights seemed to be alive, stretching around people who were from captivity of darkness, cored, long hands, gossiping them in a thick network, trying to stop people. And from the darkness branches looked at something terrible, dark and cold. It was a difficult path, and people tired of them fell in spirit. But they were ashamed to confess their impotence, and here they were in anger and anger hit Danko, a man who walked in front of them. And they began to reproach him in the inability to manage them, which is how!
They stopped at the solemn noise of the forest, among the trembling darkness, tired and evil, began to judge Danko.
"You," they said, "an insignificant and harmful person for us!" You led us and tired, and for it you will die!
- You said: "Array!" - And I led! - Danko shouted, becoming a breast against them. - I have a courage to lead, that's why I led you! And you? What did you do to help yourself? You just walked and did not know how to keep the strength on the path more long! You just walked, went like a flock of sheep!
But these words enraged them even more.
- You will die! You will die! - They roared.
And the forest was jetty and buzzed, the second to be crouched, and the lightning ruined the darkness in the shreds. Danko looked at those for whom he suffered work, and saw that they were like beasts. Many people stood around him, but was not on the faces of their nobility, and it was impossible to wait for mercy from them. Then in his heart it boiled indignation, but from pity for people it went out. He loved people and thought that, maybe, without him, they would die. And here his heart flames the desire to save them, bring them to an easy way, and then the rays of the mighty fire spurled in his eyes ... And they, seeing it, thought that he was stripped, why it was so bright and blocked, and they were alerted like Wolves, waiting for he will fight them, and have become more densely to surround it to make it easier for them to grab and kill Danko. And he already understood their Duma, because he was still brighter in him in him, because this Duma gave birth to longing in him.
And the forest sang your gloomy song, and thunder thundered, and lil rain ...
- What do I do for people?! - Grandomy shouted Danko.
And suddenly he ripped his chest himself and pulled his heart out of her and raised him high above his head.
It was buried so bright as the sun, and brighter the sun, and the whole forest fell silent, lit by this torch of the Great Love to people, and Darkness scattered from the light of him and there, deep in the forest, trembling, fell in a rotten zev of the swamp. People, amazed, became like stones.
- Go! - shouted Danko and rushed forward to his place, highly holding a burning heart and lighting them the way to people.
They rushed after him, fascinated. Then the forest again slammed, surprised by the tops, but his noise was drowned by the trap of running people. Everyone fled quickly and boldly, fascinated by the wonderful spectacle of the burning heart. And now I dressed, but gibbles without complaints and tears. And Danko everything was ahead, and his heart was all burned, glowed!
And so suddenly the forest was intercomed in front of him, I was parted and left behind, tight and dumb, and Danko and all those people immediately plunged into the sea of \u200b\u200bsunlight and clean air, washed with rain. The thunderstorm was there, behind them, above the forest, and then the sun shone, the steppe sighed, glistened the grass in the rain diagrams and gold glittered the river ... It was evening, and from the rays of the sunset river seemed red, like that blood that beat a hot jet from torn Chest Danko.
I threw myself ahead of myself on the Shreping of the steppe proud dankozk, "he threw a joyful gaze to his free land and laughed proudly. And then fell and died.
People, joyful and complete hopes, did not notice the death of him and did not see what is still burning near the corpse of Danko his bold heart. Only one cautious person noticed this and, fearing something, stepped on a proud heart with his foot ... And here it, scattering in sparks, fade ... "
- That's where they come from, the blue sparks of the steppe, what are in front of a thunderstorm!
Now that the old woman ended her beautiful fairy tale, the steppe became scary quietly, accurately and she was amazed by the powers of Danko, which burned his heart for people and died, without asking them nothing as a reward to themselves. Old woman Dremad. I looked at her and thought: "How many fairy tales and memories remained in her memory?" And I thought about the great burning heart of Danko and about human fantasy, which created as many beautiful and strong legends.
The wind rejuvenated and exposed me out of the rachmothev, the old worms of the old woman of the isergil, falling asleep everything is stronger. I covered her old body and myself lay down on Earth near her. The steppe was quiet and dark. In the sky, all crawled clouds, slowly, boring ... the sea was noisy deaf and sad.

I I heard these stories under Akkerman, in Bessarabia, on the seashore. One evening, king the daytime collection of grapes, the Moldovan party, with which I worked, went to the seashore, and I and the old woman Izergil remained under the thick shadow of grape vines and, lying on the ground, silent, looking like melting in the blue night of the night silhouettes People who went to the sea. They walked, sang and laughed; Men are bronze, with lush, black mustache and dense curls to shoulders, in short jackets and wide harshs; Women and girls are cheerful, flexible, with dark blue eyes, also bronze. Their hair, silk and black, were dissolved, the wind, warm and lightweight, playing them, stalked with coins woven into them. Wind tech is a wide, smooth wave, but sometimes he exactly jumped through something invisible and, giving birth to a strong impulse, waved the hair of women in fantastic mane, raised around their heads. It made women strange and fabulous. They went farther from us, and the night and fantasy dressed them more beautifully. Someone played a violin ... The girl sang soft contracete, heard laughter ... The air was saturated with a sharp smell of the sea and the fat evaporation of the Earth, shortly before the evening abundantly moistened with rain. Also, the cluster, magnificent, strange outlines and paints were wandered across the sky, here - soft, like smoke clubs, gray and ash-blue, there are sharp, like fragments of rocks, matte-black or brown. Between them gently glittered dark blue shles of the sky, decorated with golden starpic stars. All this is the sounds and smells, clouds and people - it was strangely beautiful and sad, seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful fairy tale. And everything as it were in his height, dying; The noise of Gas votes, removing, reborn into sad sighs. - What didn't you go with them? - nodding his head, asked the old woman Izergil. Time bent it in half, black once the eyes were dim and got drunk. Her dry voice sounded strange, he crunched, exactly the old woman spoke to the bones. "I don't want," I replied to her. - Yeh! .. Old people will be born, Russian. Gloomy everything, like the demons ... They fear you our girls ... But you are young and strong ... The moon rose. Her disc was great, blood-shred, she seemed to be released from the depths of this steppe, which in his century so much swallowed human meat and drank blood, which is probably such a fat and generous. We fell lace shadows from foliage, I and the old woman were covered with them as a network. On the steppe, to the left of us, floated the shadows of the clouds, soaked with the blue shine of the moon, they became transparent and light. - Look, Won goes Larra! I watched the old woman pointed his trembling hand with the curves with my fingers, and saw the shadows sailed there, there were a lot of them, and one of them, the dark and thicker than others, sailed faster and below the sisters, - she fell from the cloud shred, which Floored closer to Earth than others, and rather than they. - No one there! - I said. - You are blind more than me, old women. Look - won, dark, runs the steppe! I looked still and did not see anything, except for the shadows. - This is a shadow! Why are you calling her Larra? - Because it is he. He has already become like a shadow, - it's time! He lives thousands of years, the sun dried his body, blood and bones, and the wind spat them. That's what God can make with a person for pride! .. - Tell me how it was! - I asked the old woman, feeling ahead one of the glorious fairy tales folded in the steppes. And she told me this fairy tale. "Many thousand years have passed since that time it happened. Far behind the sea, at sunrise, there is a country of a big river, in the country every wood leaf and grass stem gives as many shadows as a person needs to be hiding in her from the sun, Brutally roast there. Here is some kind of generous land in the country! A powerful tribe of people lived there, they grazed her herd and hunting for beasts spent their strength and courage, drank after hunting, sang songs and played with girls. Once, during the pir, one Of these, the black-haired and gentle, like the night, took the eagle, having descended from the sky. The arrows fleeing into it with men, fell miserable, back to the ground. Then they went to look for a girl, but did not find it. And forgot about it, how to forget about everything on earth. " The old woman sighed and silent. Her creak voice sounded as if it was rushed with all the forgotten centuries, embodied in her breast with the shadows of memories. The sea quietly fired the beginning of one of the ancient legends, which may be created on his shores. "But in twenty years, she herself came, exhausted, withered, and she was a young man, beautiful and strong, as she herself was twenty years ago. And when she was asked, where she was, she said that the eagle took her in the mountains and He lived with her there, as with his wife. Here is his son, and the father is no longer; when he began to weaken, then he rose at the last time high in the sky and, folding the wings, fell heavily from there to the sharp ledges of the mountain, crashed themselves about them .. . All looked at the surprise on the son of the eagle and saw that he was no better than them, only his eyes were cold and proud, like the king of birds. And they talked to him, and he answered if he wanted, or was silent, and when the oldest came The tribes, he spoke with them, like equal to himself. It insulted them, and by calling him an intereled arrow with a nervous tip, they told him that their honor, they obey thousands of such as he, and thousands twice as older than him. And he, boldly looking at them, answered that such as he, no more; And if everything is honored - he does not want to do this. Oh! .. Then they really became completely angry. Angry and said: - He has no place among us! Let go where wants. He laughed and went where he wanted to him, - to one beautiful girl who looked at him intently; I went to her and, approaching, hugged her. And she was a daughter of one of the foreman who condemned him. And, although he was handsome, she pushed him away, because he was afraid of his father. She pushed him away, and he went away, and he hit her and, when she fell, rose her legs on her chest, so that from her mouth blood splashed to the sky, the girl, sighing, wriggled the snake and died. All those who saw it accumulated fear, - for the first time as they killed a woman so much. And for a long time, everyone was silent, looking at her, lying with open eyes and a bloody mouth, and on him who stood alone against everyone, and was proud, - did not lower his head, as if causing a punishment to her. Then, when we got up, they grabbed it, tied up and so left, finding that it was too easy to kill - too easy and not satisfying them. "The night grew and fastened, folling with strange, quiet sounds. In the steppes sadly scored gophers, in the foliage of grapes trembled Glass dwarfger of grasshoppers, foliage sighed and whispering, full disk of the moon, before the blood-red, pale, removing from the ground, pale and all richly lied on the steppe bluish Mollu ... "And here they are going to come up with a penalty, worthy of crime .. . They wanted to break his horses - and it seemed few to them; Thought to put in him all over the arrow, but rejected and it; offered to burn it, but the smoke of the fire would not allow to see his torment; They offered a lot - and did not find anything so good to like everyone. And his mother stood in front of them on his knees and was silent, not finding neither tears, nor words to beg about mercy. For a long time they spoke, and here one sage said, thinking long: - I ask him why he did it? Asked him about it. He said: - Unleash me! I will not talk connected! And when untied him, he asked: - What do you need? "Asked, for sure they were slaves ..." You heard ... "said the sage. - Why will I explain to you my actions? - To be understood by us. You, proud, listen! Anyway, you die after all ... Let us understand what you did. We stay to live, and it is useful for us to know more than we know ... - Well, I will say, although I may not understand what happened. I killed her therefore, it seems to me - that she pushed me off ... And I needed it. - But she is not yours! - told him. - Do you use only your own? I see that every person has only speech, hands and feet ... And he owns animals, women, earth ... and many more ... He was told for it that for all that a man takes, he pays himself: His mind and strength, sometimes - life. And he answered that he wants to keep himself entire. Long told him and finally saw that he considers himself the first on earth and, except for himself, he sees anything. Everyone was even scary, when they understood what kind of loneliness he commocated himself. He had no tribe, nor mother, no cattle, no wife, and he did not want anything of it. When people saw it, they again began to judge how to punish him. But now, for a long time they said, - the wise who did not interfere with it to judge, spoke himself: - Stand! Punishment is. This is a terrible sentence; You do not invent such a thousand years! Punishment to him - in him itself! Let him, let him be free. Here is his punishment! And then the great one happened. He hit the thunder from heaven, - although they were not clouded. This is the forces of heaven confirmed the speech of the wise. All bowed and diverged. And this young man who has now received the name of Larra, which means: rejected, thrown out, - the young man laughs loudly after people who threw him laughing, staying alone, free as his father. But his father was not a man ... And this one was a man. And so he began to live, free, like a bird. He came to the tribe and stolen cattle, girls - everything that wanted. It was shot, but the arrows could not pierce his bodies, closed by the invisible cover of the highest pitch. He was deft, preached, Silen, cruel and did not meet with people face to face. Only published seen it. And for a long time he, lonely, so rushed near people, for a long time - more than a dozen years. But once he came close to people and, when they rushed to him, did not touch him and did not show anything to defend themselves. Then one of the people guessed and shouted loudly: - Do not touch him. He wants to die! And everyone stopped, not wanting to alleviate the fate of one who did evil, not wanting to kill him. Stopped and laughing at him. And he trembled, hearing this laughter, and everything was looking for something on his chest, grabbing her with his hands. And suddenly he rushed to people, raising the stone. But they, evading his blows, did not cause him a single one, and when he, tired, with a dreary cry fell to Earth, they moved away and watched him. So he got up and, raising the knife lost by someone in the fight, hit his chest. But the knife broke down - they hit them exactly in the stone. And again he fell to the ground and he fought his head for a long time. But the earth was removed from him, deepening from his head blows. - He can't die! - Joy said people. And left, leaving him. He lay down the face and saw the mighty eagles in the sky in the sky. In his eyes, there were so many longing that could be poisoned by all the people of the world. So, since then he remained alone, free, waiting for death. And now he walks, walks everywhere ... See, he has already become like a shadow and there will be forever! He does not understand the speech of people nor their actions - nothing. And everything is looking for, walks, walks ... he has no life, and death does not smile at him. And there is no place among people ... That's how the man was struck for pride! "The old woman sighed, silent, and her head, dropping on his chest, swung strange several times. I looked at her. Old woman defeated sleep, it seemed to me. And it became For some reason, it is terribly sorry for her. The end of the story she led such a sublime, threatening tone, but still in this tone sounded, the slave note. On the shore, they got strangely. At first, he was contrait ... he dug two or three notes, And another voice rang out, who began the song at first, and the first one was still ahead of him ... - Third, the fourth, the fifth joined the song in the same order. And suddenly the same song, again, at first, the choir of men's votes. Each voice Women sounded perfectly separately, they all seemed to be multi-colored streams and, exactly riding from somewhere on top of the ledge, jumping and linking, jumped into a thick wave of men's voices, smoothly drunk up, drowned in her, broke out of her, drove her and again one for Others were spawned, clean and strength Both, high up. Noise Waves was not heard by voices ...