Barely my bride became my wife, purple worlds of the first revolution got us into whirlpool. Me, long ago secretly desiring for death, got into grey purple, silver stars, pearls and amethyst of the snowstorm. My wife followed me, and for her this transition (from ease to difficulties, from permissible to not permissible) was more painful, more difficult than it was for me.
After the past snowstorm have opened the iron void of the day, which continued, however, to threaten us with the new Blizzard, to conceal its promises. These were years between revolutions tired and scotched body and soul. Now again the hurricane comes (can not determine the color and the smell yet).
My dear Kolya,
Mother has finally received your letter from Paris. I am happy that you are staying in France. I think I don’t have to describe how badly I want to come to you. I beg you - try to arrange it, show me that yiu are my friend. See more
Since they did not allow us to go on the streets, we could not go to the 11 o'clock service at church. See more
From the three sides of the abyss: ahead—the victorious procession of Emperor Wilhelm towards unresisting Russia; to the right—return to the old, general on a white horse, who suffocates life in the name of victory; to the left—the insurrection of the Bolsheviks, anarchy, sea of unnecessary blood, the destruction of Russia and the Revolution.
We are all children, and I am of course no exception. The war is at fault for the four year stagnation in the history of humanity, and that it was seen as the calm before the storm. Special are the military children, for there is a perfect harmony between the righteousness of their actions, and the sin that resides within them. See more