Elena Ryvin

On willingly wrote her poems to music young Leningrad composers, among them Vasily Solovyov-Gray.When the Great Patriotic War, Captain Elena Ryvin joined the ranks of the defenders of the city.But before the war, she once again came with a delegation of Leningrad in the Pushkin Reserve.Exuberant blooming cherries, the nightingales sang, - she did not know that soon all be subject to shame and Incinerate.Elena Ryvin working in the operational group of writers Lenfronta, led by Colonel Nikolai Tikhonov, has done much for the victory over fascism.

She came not so much poetry books.Prints it is not too often.But she has a steady reader fervently loving her heartfelt lyrical poetry to convey this love from heart to heart, from generation to generation.This reader will be pleased to know that Elena Ryvin wrote good poetry until the last days of his life, wrote passionate conviction.

in the town of Pushkin, where since 1919 she has spent years of his youth, has devoted her stands in the Municipal local hist

ory and school museum.Elena's life was tragically cut short Israelevna: she died in an accident, hit by a train, in August 1985.

her friends were Leonid Pervomaisky, Sawa Golovanivsky Mikhail Svetlov, Eugene Dolmatovsky Alexander Gitovich Vadim Shefner Semyon Botvinnik.There is a wonderful portrait of the poet's work for its wartime comrades,
People's Artist of the USSR to the teacher.And most importantly, lives her poetry, bright, optimistic, uncompromising, flowing like the river banks freestyle 30s in the now close to future readers and admirers of Elena Ryvin coming century.


* * *
OVER this.
And there - on page one?And just one
stayed somewhere
forever for a feature.
What about this here page?The
bestowed existence?
And just there still kept
Patience proud yours.
But the last page.
What we leave her?
It takes a little more
peace of mind - for forty days.
sweet and green everywhere,
and the sun shines on the third.
And then I will not watch,
I'm scared to look further.



* * *

on the Kryukov Canal
we wandered with you,
and boys caught up,
to cry behind the tube.
Pressed to drain,
He cried and moaned,
said that did not mean he had lost
pencil.
the confidence
slowly coming to us, the boy said he
that certainly
father would kill him.
and waterfall dripping
Amid free of wet puddles:
- He's my father, not the Pope.He's just my mother
muzh.-
Zayd his dismay,
sudden you say:
- Let's go that way a minute,
What are you running here.-
By Nicholas Cathedral
After another quarter,
We found very soon
Lost pencil.
And the boy burst into tears,
Rush did not keep.
He suddenly leaned to you,
You embraced him.
have Kryukov Canal -
You often remembered -
Thee I hugged
after found a pencil case.
have Kryukov Canal
a boy of
I embrace thee, -
And nothing more.

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