naval forces, so this can be translated, well, we usually call him an admiral, some , by the way, military analysts, conclude from this that china is shifting the emphasis in its military development to the naval theater, military operations, uh, well , probably, there is some logic in this, let the experts determine this; by the way, even now, the chinese navy is considered the largest and most powerful in the world.

with the exception of aircraft carriers, the americans still have more of them, china is now preparing for - the third aircraft carrier is about to go to sea. in the comments of the negotiations between the two ministers, by the way, with the american minister of defense, the new newly appointed minister of china has not yet entered into contact, although contacts have taken place at the level of the chiefs of general staff, the chiefs of staff committee. from the american side of the joint headquarters from the chinese side, but this is mainly for discussing more, let’s say, private issues, not strategic, about issues that, well, let’s say , are mandatory for major military powers interaction, as for the defense ministers, in comments, primarily in the west, attention was drawn to the fact that admiral dongjun expressed support for russia in ukraine, here i would still like to be precise, what with... dongjun said, in

-firstly, china supports russia in its efforts to ensure its own security, this is what we are talking about, and there is nothing new here , china has spoken about this before, and there is another thesis, it may even be in first place, that china supports russia in its attempts to resist economic pressure, this seems to me very important, because

it is especially important in those difficult times in which we have to work, in a situation of war, when there are inevitable restrictions, in a situation of country growth, when there must be different opinions, when there must be freedom of discussion, many thanks to konstantin ermst for making all this possible. it was a great game, we'll see you on the air tomorrow. our homeland russia is great, our country, what can i say, i love it very much, russian people - this is one of... in the whole world, how can

you live with me for so many years, explain in the country, i think we need to give in to each other, my hobby is ringing church bells, and i am the bell ringer of our local church, i love nothing to do and relax, happiness is when you are understood, when you are appreciated, loved for who you are. hello, the creative industry podcast is on the air, i’m sure you remember these immortal lines, you don’t choose times,

people live in them, they die, there is nothing more vulgar in the world than to cry and blame, as if you can these, how to change at the market, and children's items, led me to the house. at first, where pushkin lived, they said there was a stand, i asked, is this the neva river , they told me, what are you, this is a car wash, usually guests come to our studio, and today we came to visit the great poet and his beloved city, because petersburg and kushner are inseparable, let's go, hello, hello, hello, i'm pleased. that you invited me, well, since i write poetry, this will be basically the topic of our conversation, i started writing poetry very early, probably around 9-10 years old, i think that

child's knowledge, death, early knowledge, at 4 years old at 5 years old. father's elder sister, in syzyran there was hunger , one day my mother was working, she worked as a typist, typed on a typewriter, brought a bun from work, and it was absolute happiness, because in my eyes, i no longer

remembered, i didn’t remember that there were buns in the world , only bread, in kindergarten, for example, i remember two wonderful children, a brother and sister are small and one day they come to kindergarten crying , what happened, the father died at the front, it’s clear, i think that the child’s knowledge, death early knowledge, at 4 years old, at 5 years old, contributes to... growing up and maybe even somehow influences the future poetry, well, that means i can read, let’s say i took

a big book with me, uh, here i will read a poem that was included in my book , the first impression was called: you know, this is 60, 1962, imagine, when it ’s rushing, when i’m very sad, i’ll take out my notebook , i can’t scream, i can’t sigh, i’ll call someone, oh the voices of my friends, thank you, thank you for being there. at home on late evenings, because in difficult times intertwined with love and your grief, you forgot how you lived, you said nothing, behind ordinary words, there was such kindness, as if god

was standing behind you, telling you then, and can you imagine? a poem with the word god was published in soviet times, yes, it’s amazing. true, one day i called brodsky and asked: “how are you living? he says: you answered nothing, that is , you remembered this poem. you know, i was in london, paris, venice, rome, nothing better than st. petersburg, after all, i i don’t know, and this is not boasting. st. petersburg seems to me.”

the italian's hands in a tube, curl up again under his gray cloak under his arm, so that the seam is torn and rubbed, so that the italian walks snuggly in the shade of st. petersburg gardens, under the wind in the wild cold, and after two glances after someone, i will understand between a century and a moment there is a special difference.

yes, and i really want to take off my hat every now and then, because the city is really so beautiful, why is it all crossed by rivers, where you will find such an avenue as nevsky, which is crossed by the moika, the fontanka, and the griboyedov canal, which is more correct of course call it ekaterinsky because griboyedov. moskveche has nothing to do with it, it was built under catherine, and then there is the niva

and so on, in general, an absolute miracle, but here is the poem st. petersburg rivers, i see, i see early in the morning, rushing into the neva, and the bypass, and the fountain, similar bottle. a bold reflection of oil, i see a gray hue,

a sink, a woman, from ont, hooks, climbing a wall, a buckle, a karpovka, a smolenka, a styx, a cocytus, i am an acherunt, you see, connected to the st. petersburg rivers, two ancient afterlife rivers, well, because st. petersburg, what... i haven’t seen in my time in my history , i’ve seen so much, you’ll come home , rustling with your cloak, wiping off the rain on your cheeks , is life still mysterious, is it still mysterious, no need for ghosts , darker, darker without that, oh, more provocative, even stranger, more mysterious than all, it’s dear to me... close-up of life, the unevenness, and the flaws

seen in it, as if through a strong microscope. the biologist will say, the screw circling, that you can’t take your eyes off, i don’t know if there is a soul in us, but in the cage he will say there is, and he is all the more embarrassed because he is initiated into the secret, well, that means it’s possible. to live, yet, mysteriously, yet, you will come home to the house, your hand in the chalk, as if propped up , and this night, and this... and the stone portal , marble and granite teach us not to remember insults, but to remember how the leaves fly, creots at your feet , as the world sways, hold on, it’s no longer a leaf from your cheeks, i’ll wipe it off, they decided, it made life

even more mysterious, these are the poems, you see, they didn’t print a lot, i can tell you why? now i’ll read it and you’ll understand, after all, i feel confident, and so that my soul doesn’t take over, blinding me for a while, i have two things to do, my friend, two things to do, let them try to

embarrass me, they say he’s not busy with business. in two things , i would risk comparing myself to a swallow in the sense that i flutter with two wings, hold me, a stream of air, i glance, squint, i insist, who is clumsy here, not me, i move with a feather and press with chalk, and if someone... standing behind him, pounce, hit him with a wing, i’ll say so , you’ll get in trouble with me, two things to do, i, my friend, have two things to do, of course, i couldn’t be called a poison, that’s the whole secret, at the dacha, where the river is , to the field, to the bush at the shoulder

“my, the president’s arrival means almost nothing, as long as a military band is playing the marseillaise in moscow, we reach for the forest with a cloud and cheerfully look around, your arrival in russia is a page in history,” brezhnev said. “i would have met you, but denichka, sings, mr. general, bushes, selfless service, dense forest, a wall like a franc, soviet friendship, and even stronger than her, you read your poems to akhmatova, i visited her several

times. unlike brodsky, bobushev, rein and naiman, who went in fours, i i came alone, and i’ll tell you this is much more difficult, it’s clear why, the first time lydia yakovlevna ginsburg brought me there, she was a wonderful philologist, she was a student. shklovsky, she studied with them, with genuine philologists who discovered new things in their view of literature. akhmatov did not look forward to her requiem, she, she was pleased that i always ask her to read some

poem, not only i read it, she wrote some poems, some. i appreciated mine, i don’t remember well, i think that the best thing in russia is its poetry, you’re amazed, isn’t it can anyone compare there , well, that is, no, of course, the germans have many wonderful poets, the british too, but still, as soon as you start listing, starting with the clematis, it’s true, and don’t forget the priest until... the russian language, i want to say, in general , it’s incredibly convenient for poetry, honestly , well, i don’t know french, well, if it’s possible

for them, the emphasis is always on one layer, on the last layer and that’s it, but with us it can be on the first and on the second on the third on the tenth, whatever, further in the western poems and not only western ones. the phrase must begin with what with the subject: i went, i went out into the street, yes, he looked out the window, and so on, and we, and we have such a row of clouds, a flying ridge, this is pushkin, where the ones present, at the very end, sentence ridge, that's... where it is and this gives the poet the opportunity to wonderfully use these things in poetry, take advantage of them, they help

write poetry, so i'll read the poem: i love the tyranny of rhyme, one to achieve, makes sudden meaning and perfection. and truly a bird of paradise suddenly flies in, it turns out that there is bliss on earth, how miserable it is to be, without it i would have been forced, without obstacles, obstacles and dear hints, and i would not have known what i was missing, consolation, confusion, an unexpected meeting, a shake-up, this is the russian language, with its deep cases, suffixes

and light running, stress, but we won’t go into details between us, a gift is a gift, only a gift, and our language was invented by a genius, so there’s this... as much as you like, you know, this, this is some kind of miracle, free, some kind of great freedom in russian language, in this sense with an epigraph, cruel may with white nights from the block, there would be no place, neither fear nor anger, all our sins would be forgiven if there in foreign countries...

the lock stood at the gate, may indeed it can be cruel, disastrous, white night, the mind cannot chill these construction sites, it cannot be overcome by time, my first book was torn apart, it was terribly scolded, in the newspaper there is a change, leningrad komsomolskaya, do you know where else? skom magazine crocodile, where they scolded bribe-takers and goat thieves, and then i was pleased and they said that my

book would rot in the trash heap, that the editors i allowed some kind of defect in my work, they scolded my editor, a wonderful person igor sergeevich kuzmyachev, and so did i, of course, oh. it was very painful, i’ll tell you the truth, it was very painful, but what they scolded me for, why, what they scolded me for, what kind of intimacy, that was their favorite word, they criticized me, they scolded me for my intimacy, for my love of objectivity, for the lack of poetry, about great construction projects, well, how, how, yes , that i would write my poems, write what i thought

and what i wanted, and i am grateful to fate for it, so, well, you know, you can still read it, poet he values ​​his country, no other country needs him, translate him, even into sanskrit, even into french, pathetic from kanfour. it is in a foreign rich language, all languages ​​are rich in their own way, lives in an unusual melancholy, the sound does not go with the sound, and the lips are compressed, imagine a picture, all the mosques are written and painted by someone else’s hand, the original copy is close, but raphael is on the copy, how...

"but where will i go from russian poetry of the russian language, for me it was unimaginable and not only for that reason, but for me a great example was akhmatova, there was pasternak, there was nikolai zabolotsky and so on, everyone who stayed here, they left, i came to school, and my students looked at me

with kind eyes, and sympathized with me, they understood that this defeat was dishonest and, moreover, the book was displaced from counters, ten thousandth edition, was instantly sold out, i'm not bragging, well, brodsky had to leave, he had a different character, he had a different character, it was not for nothing that he wrote the cry of a hawk, i wrote about seagulls and swallows, well, then he really they didn’t print it, they held a trial behind him, above him, shameful, uh, of course , he was tortured, but i must say that he was bored there, in fact, i know this, because when i asked him, how are you doing here, i and you were

with me visiting him? i wasn’t released in soviet times, then they released me, i said, how do you like it here? he says , no, it doesn’t matter, he wrote an angry poem against me , which was called, like a letter to an oasis , wow, we are an oasis, but in what year, in ninety-one or two, like yes, excuse me, we have there was nothing, i was scared upset. well, this is how such a disagreement happened, then he apologized, then they made up again, everything was restored, everything was fine, he spoke before that, then at my evening his knowledge was very good, here he is, he wrote some wonderful words , you know, you can show it, you know, may 18, 1972, the second year, this is when he was leaving, as

it happened, i was working part-time then, no longer at school, of course, on a newsreel, i read some texts there, i went out, and he comes towards me, well, we hugged, that’s all, and he says, i want to come in to marina, you wait for me, to marina basmanova.

moreover, life there was not fun, but was life fun before vlatov? no, and you, are you lucky? no, i don’t dream everything for myself now, but i don’t regret it either. at least i’m not complaining, uh, well, that’s how life works , people are not at all the same, they are built differently, that’s how it should be, and what did joseph brodsky write to you, what did he write, yes, to dear alexander, from nice joseph, in a good place, at a bad time, brodsky, understandable, right? seventy-second year, he is on he made wonderful inscriptions in the books, one is the end of a wonderful era, here he wrote sasha and lenina, lenina is my wife, elena at a glance, sasha and lenina, for boundless

tenderness joseph borodsky, well, on the book of buraaniya, quite funny, dear alexander. from joseph, who loves him dearly, signed new york, and also across it goes, attention, attention, urania is coming at you, he, of course, remembered our childhood games, attention, attention, germany is coming at you, in my childhood it was accepted. everyone knew, well , he used it, but how did you communicate then together, what brought you together, what brought you together, the poems brought you closer together, of course, i loved his poems , he treated mine well, it’s true, so

you know, when he died, for me it was the most difficult impression, it was... the most difficult event , maybe his character will be clear from these poems, which i wrote this poem in the same year when he died in ninety-six, i looked at the poet and thought, it’s fortunate that he writes, poems they rule rome, because both are called power, and under its pressure we would if they had not lived for a year, everyone would have been in formation, stanzas,

he concluded with iron san-zhammann, lives towards glory and disaster, and a tyrant. threatening , he was a tyrant, and i wouldn’t mind blowing my head off even more so, for his lyrical gift and love for objects, indifferent to the success of his sovereign warmed by a decidedly soft light, in his poems his power with a frayed cry and... contempt for two-legged people, jealous of stars, climbed into my heart with a happy moment, inaccessible, coligulous or menacing, blinded

me, lifted me above the clouds, to which i myself hunter, i still asked him to be quieter, quieter than mine... swallows with blue fabric in scissors , quickly cutting off the far edge of the heavens, kissed me, god bless you, well, it’s clear here, this is the attitude, you know,

i’m not the emperor’s mother , and i am not a regent for a minor emperor, i am an empress and... it’s difficult, they are defeating me, the hour has come,

gentlemen, brothers, on the throne of the usurper there is an impostor, a rootless german, i had no illusions, i knew what power was, i knew that i was going, but i was sure that i could stop the intrigues and carry out my duties with dignity cross, great golden age, big premiere, tomorrow after the program time. we will talk with our guest, the founder and artistic director of eterno music, an outstanding conductor, theodor gurendis. what is the task? take the audience out of their comfort state? this is not comfort, what we are looking for, how can it be comfortable when you always want to create new ones?

i haven’t read anything about love yet,

so let’s read it very much, for some reason the readers somehow treat it well, i’ll read it, this is even before i met don’t look at the universe, this was written a relatively long time ago, to be unloved, my god, happiness is to wait for a letter for months and not

wait, who told us that the world is at our feet , lies in tears, agrees to everything, he is indifferent and cruel, but truly beautiful, what should i do with my grief, sleep , you will hide your head at night when... you weren’t happy with him, i would stop loving myself, don’t be afraid, well, okay, but about happy love, and about happy love, yes, with pleasure, this is a poem , some completely different life began for me after after we met without looking at each other and began to live together, since then we have lived a lot, uh, what, more than 40 years together, what happiness is with you, talk, talk, talk, here is joy, all evening,

sneak in at night, and at night, oh, how it stretches, a starry, thin thread, having stitched through this darkness, this magical hole, like a wolf, and the nearest star, you won’t reach the nearest star in a year, together in... a fresh corner, a somewhat deaf universe, you will wake up in a crowded room with an armchair and round table, already.

passed in his roman verses, frightening away the centuries-old languor, about the cold, about the crust, the snow-covered, poor land that we love, jealous of the heavenly

home, well, here’s a poem, well, i’m really here for a poem. one of my favorites, italian vila, for those who don’t remember , read it, i highly recommend it just in case, i’m sure you’ll like it, well, here we are, we’re still thinking about who created this life, you said that there is no hell, but i’ll explain why there is only heaven. because i can't imagine god crying, who, what is hell? this, this is unimaginable, how can anyone day to torture a person, every day to torture him

with fire, ice and so on, what are you, how can god be like that, i am absolutely sure that there is none? no, but as for heaven, this is a big problem, you know, i’m not a church minister, i have doubts about this , i think, dare i say it, that heaven can also get boring. the same thing all the time , to tell the truth, i’m many years old, i feel i’m already a little tired of life, tired, and if you imagine the same amount of time, and if it’s infinity, what are you talking about, no soul at all

it won’t stand, so it seems to me, i ’m not imposing this opinion on anyone, of course , it’s really a miracle, i just can’t understand how it arose, how it’s a riddle, the riddle remains, i don’t know its solution, i’m speaking honestly, i’m not saying neither yes nor no, i even have poems, whether i believe in god or not

, the vyredsky road knows about it, the sea wave in crimea knows about it, was i... open or was i closed to him, with a capital i write or lowercase letters and so on, that is , it no longer doesn’t matter, you know, what’s important is that i don’t know, no, he speaks in the shadows, no, i say in the shade, in the sun, yes, like this, let me read you another poem, my friends, there were many of them, none of them believed in god.