is no Greater Happiness for You than Seeing Your Children, Grandchildren, Great-grandchildren … Happy. If You Raised Them Correctly (the merit of “building a house and planting a tree…” is not great), Then They Must Be Happier, Smarter, Happier, better than us – Parents. No one has yet been able to repay our Duty to Them in full to our Parents. This does not have to be done! This is the Relay! Now You are becoming a Parent. Your Task is to Give Your Children no less than your Parents gave you. This is the Law of Life. And further. Children must know their Pedigree!
That is why the proverb: “… An Apple from an Apple Tree Falls Not Far” (although there are Exceptions. As a rule – not from That Apple Tree, the Apple is!).
Low Bow to You – Elders!
You have done the most important thing – you have given us life! There are no Bad Parents! There are – erring! Sooner or Late They See. And I will not wish the Torment of Repentant Parents to anyone, not even the Worst Enemies. (Is it Enemies?! Why are they harmful?! They just, like “Postman Pechkin” ** There was no Lisapeda! And so – Quite Normal Guys!)
Let’s live in peace! … Little Raccoons! Don’t make scary faces! Smile! And everything will work out for you! Well, and we … “… Dirt Tanks Are Not Afraid!”! Ahtung! Panzer! But … Niht Schissen, comrade! Hitler Kaput! Defenders of the Fatherland on the Threshold!
We are the Vanguard of the “Golden Age!” It is a pity that We did not arrive without Losses in Their Rows.
And Eternal Memory To Them!
Afterword by the Author
Salma! You are the Great Artist! (I even Know – in Whom). Your Finest Hour – Ahead! Happiness and good luck to you.
The next obligatory chapter I will devote to Catherine Zeta-Jones – Actress, Star, Beauty.
Chapter IV. Where are you, my beloved …
This chapter of the Blessed Memory of our Beloved Sister First Reader, Chapter IV of NATASHA KOYAWA-KIRAKOZOVA “… Where are you, my Beloved? How I loved you …”(Russian folk song)
I dedicate
Chapter IV
Hunting for Wolves …
…or for the Spirits of the Mountains and Valleys …
The noise of the streams in the shower room merrily lay on the softly humming tune. In fact, he liked to sing louder, but the HOUSE slept, breathing WARMTH and COMFORT. To break this HARMONY it was not at all to his soul. Smiling, he quietly deduced:
“… The highland guy sings about the One Girl, and in Whom he is in love – guess! Instead of the name Milo, it sounds under the Moon – Do-la-lay, Do-la-lay, lay-lay!..”
Thoughts cheerfully jumped from one to the other. At first, asleep, slower, then faster and faster. For some time now, he began to notice himself, while with surprise, then more and more fun, that watching how Thoughts Live gives him more and more Pleasure.
Either they frolicked like playful kittens, then they wrapped you comfortably like Grandma’s downy shawl, and the SOUL was getting warm. A light breeze of Sadness ran across his forehead for a moment. Then he never managed to get Home. The grandmother was buried without him. Guilt’s load has lived with him ever since.
And the father?! Vina quietly, so as not to disturb the Others living in the SOUL, shuffling sadly, made her way into the corner and leaned against That, the Other Vina, who was hugging lonely in the corner of the Soul. Now he knew why then his Soul suddenly shrank from pain. It was Grandma who said goodbye to him, and he …
Grimacing in annoyance, the Highlander almost spat. After all, he was taught to be a Man. Just think, “… I am sitting behind bars in a damp dungeon …”. This is not an excuse. He did not justify himself. Therefore, Vina settled Forever. He knew.
The sharp whistle of a whip broke the oppressive silence of the tent. The leaked eye of the nuker hung lonely, sliding down the sleeve of the dusty dressing gown. A dirty red groove, dotted with crimson buds of blood, stretched along a wide crimson scar that cut through the messenger’s smoky, pockmarked face. From dirty ear to runny beard. The messenger rode in with bad news. And now, bustlingly crawling towards the exit, he shuddered in fright from the noise of dishes and food scattering around the tent.
Batu, with his face dark with anger, was now striking with a whip on the backs of the Astrologer and the Adviser, huddled in the corner (They warned him at the beginning of the March – Their Ariy * Uastyrdzhi ** will be with them! It was not the same!!).
Damned Alans!! Already what a tumen of his Invincible has laid down their heads! He was stuck in this Battle, as in a filthy swamp, where even a lasso cannot reach a lonely bent birch tree, rustling with rare foliage. But at the beginning of the Battle, greenery covered all the branches.
Batu has lost track of Time. How long will this continue?! He gave a sharp kick to his beloved dog and ran out of the tent.
In the center of the Battle, in the clouds of smoke creeping below, the Banner fluttered. The leopard on the banner was no longer as Merry as when It began. Bloody stars scattered across the broad chest. The snow-white skin with dark large peas no longer sparkled in the sun. An ash bloom on it, and peas are like burns from embers flying from a dying nomad fire, or …
Even the Weapon inherited from Grandfather does not help. It pierces the damask chain mail right through – only a torn funnel on the back of the Warrior. But another Warrior steps into the gap. The Charges are running out, and They are all patching up and patching holes, as in a broken dam.
Grandfather was always secretive. Genghis Khan, even to him, his beloved grandson (a descendant of the Great Mughals – Grandfather loved to repeat), did not reveal the Mystery of where he got his Weapon. And I didn’t say where to get the charges either!
Well, where else can we get them? But they thought that three campaigns would be enough. The bookkeepers are bad! This Nightmare began from the Seas.
Already the Mountains have stood behind the backs of the Warriors, try it – go around them from the flanks! This is not the Steppe for you, where the Invincible streams flowed around the islands of Warriors with battle Banners fluttering in the wind.
Bars * bent heavily on the banner. There is no longer that grace. Sharp eyes look anxiously at the right flank. Not! The Wolf is still standing on its paws! * Wool flies in tufts. The Pack beats in a fierce grin. It has always helped. The Wolf Warriors fight shoulder to shoulder. But where did you get from the circle of others, Mad Wolves? Will be lost! And there is. Dogs crumpled them. A horseshoe of gray bristling nape rested against the Mountains. They will not be bypassed either.
The wind blew the banner, Bars turned to the left. Heavy blows of the Bear. Dogs scatter, screeching. Their lifeless carcasses lie in heaps. And the Bear keeps giving blows to the right and to the left. Blood floods my face. All do not care! Only for a moment he looked up at Bars, and, smiling, continues to beat the Dogs. Bars smiled back. You can safely turn your chest. The flanks are reliable. Just why is the Bear alone? Again, probably, others are sleeping, but their paws are sucking!
Unbeknownst to the Bear was overpowered by the Dogs. The Cubs are pitifully huddling to the cooled body, snarling from the pressing Dogs. They will not give Mama, while they are alive, to be torn apart. The most playful, clubfoot rubbing, waddling on short legs, runs to other dens. Will have time to wake up the sloth! Then hold on, Dogs! The leopard smiles, it is He who is destined to fight alone. You can’t change nature. Calm Bars. They are all of the same Blood. Can’t beat the Dogs. And here, in the Mountains, he is invincible. This is his House.
Carried him not easy to visit. I succumbed to the persuasion of the Wolf to visit the Bear. You see, I wanted to walk along the plains!
Well,