she greatly appreciated her tatar origin, spoke very respectfully about everything, her father was a tatar khat valeevich. multi-colored blood traffic light akhmadulina's first poems appeared in the october magazine in 1955 and a young talented girl was immediately noticed by pavel antokolsky called her an eagle chick on the advice of her parents bella was preparing for journalism, but did not enter because she did not read the newspaper the truth and did not know what they write about . but she easily entered the institute, a talented, beautiful woman became the queen there. a magical mixture of russian tatar and italian blood, reflected in the features of the face, could not leave anyone indifferent; they were in love with her. all the young poets, but bella gave preference to yevtushenko. the lovers wandered around moscow for hours holding hands, read poetry to each other, easily

quarreled easily, put up, yevtushenko recalled that every now and then he ran ahead to look into her bakhchisaray eyes. once he wrote poetry to her on a notebook sheet and hung it on a tree branch . evgeny aleksandrovich then did not take his poems seriously; during a quarrel with bella, lines were born. with me. that's what happens to me, my old friend does not go to celebrate the bustle of a variety of mosques evgeny alexandrovich completely forgot about this poem and was incredibly surprised when he heard a song based on his own poem in eldar ryazanov's film the irony of fate or enjoy your bath. we both suffer with him with me. that's what i am absolutely

sure that in our country there is not a single person who has not watched the film the irony of fate at least once, and this is a merit not only of the beautiful directed by ryazanov, but also by the magnificent music-toriverdiev and poems to his songs, my life happened. so being a very young girl living in this very place where this movie was filmed. i was present at the shooting and could i then think that i was witnessing the birth of the most beloved film in our country. akhmadullina, yevtushenko were a wonderful couple, both young talented both loved to dress beautifully and yevtushenko was the first in moscow to start wearing a fashionable nylon suit . who worked as a translator at the soviet embassy in the united states sent parcels with clothes. in addition, the student was special at that time. luxury car. this was very irritating to those around him. she absolutely could not stand the management of

individuality when it was tried somehow. well, do not bend, even through the knee, but simply even give advice to she did. why won't you? something that could have caused a flash or life in her, she loved this person, she will remain silent and say, well, two bright personalities of yevtushenko and akhmadulin unfortunately, they could not exist together for a long time; their marriage lasted only 3 years. eugene will blame himself for being afraid for his and her creative freedom. he persuaded his wife to terminate the pregnancy and, as a punishment, god sent a loss, love and the verdict of doctors was unable to have children after 2 months of longing and despair and vtushenko, tried to turn back the clock and rushed to the house at night, taking champagne, pineapple, but the door was not opened what she experienced at that moment can only be guessed, betrayal and pain, hardly left her heart without leaving.

after 15 years, almost literally, by the irony of fate, their poetic lines will intersect and remain side by side forever in one of the most touching new year's tales about love and darkness from the poor ignorance of the past. friends, red lines will appear and dissolve again friends. my beautiful features will appear and dissolve again. whose poetry is this? and the talented poet akhmadulina, even

during the years of her studies, was heard and reached out to the literary institute. who will be happy then? become her friends. there were already some rumors that a girl poet had appeared in moscow, and we came to the literary institute and wrote a note to her and put it just on the threshold of the literary institute , pressed it with a stone, i left my phone number. and she called and invited us to her friends at different times, andrey voznesensky and zoya boguslavskaya vasily and maya aksyonova evgeny popov viktor erofeev vladimir vysotsky marina vladi mikhail zhvanetsky opened to someone, then it was once and for all with a hot goog melody, like a rain case a case.

under the direction of the love of hope small orchestras under the direction of me very highly valued human friendship, so, uh, she dedicated many poems to her friends, in general, all together and each separately. so ah, when some kind of ah difficult moments came. she, uh, was ready to join the circle when she was only external so quite a fighter

the names of character traits led to the fact that in the fifty-fourth year from the fourth year. her formally expelled from the literary institute for poor performance in dialectical materialism, a key subject for a soviet university. once it was confused and called diamat diabetes. naturally, a teacher. the professor considered this reservation a manifestation of cynicism and was ready to put even a little three saving. i would say that you know something, in general, but you didn’t study at all if you studied at least a week before the exam? i 'm sure you would have had better success then. and that she immediately replied that i had been working out for myself for a week marxismolinism, then my portrait would hang between these two views. we can guess whose portraits of fun in the classrooms, as it should be, portraits of the founders of marxism or nesm hung, but dialectical materialism was not the true

reason for akhmadulina's expulsion from the institute. in 1958, boris pasternak for the novel doctor zhivago published abroad was awarded the nobel prize in the country. the persecution of the writer among the people began, which received the name did not read, but i condemn akhmadulin by that time, indeed, the novel did not she read, but she idolized the poet pasternak, so she categorically refused to participate in this persecution and sign letters of protest, the only meeting with her idol took place in the alteration was autumn pasternak called her to his house, where interesting people often gathered at the invitation, she did not answer, she simply did not dare, but it should be like this in the world, a house. where to enter? i don’t know, it’s not possible, and therefore i didn’t come for a century. cautiously, i didn’t come, either tomorrow or later it was too late. at the very

end of may 1960, pasternak died ahmadu soon. they stopped her at the institute and she defended her diploma with honors, but she never forgave those who participated in the persecution of the poet, she could not hide the hostility of korney chukovsky to the peredelkino neighbor who suddenly forgot the way. although he congratulated the nobel laureate, before the beginning of the disgrace, he took revenge on selvinsky, despite the fact that he gave her a recommendation to the institute, calling her talent with features of genius. she also cooled down to people because of the attitude towards bunin, another russian nobel prize winner. she rebelled in her poetic core nothing is possible. this is such a person, who literally raised himself from childhood from the cradle. she was like that. she did not succumb to any suggestion and no intimidation later, the literary institute taught me how not to write. and how not to live, i realized that

life is partly an attempt. to defend the sovereignty of the soul, not to succumb to temptations or threats all her life, she will go against the current. all our pain. my only how much pain? how much in 1960 was getting married a second time, we can akhmadulina yury nagibin became a well-known soviet writer. nagibin, as an older man, is much more famous, because, of course, he was loved as a writer after yuri kazakov, as it were, in second place plus. he created a very large number of

very important and interesting scenarios, so it was like a cult of a leg of wine in his house and white, he brought home to his dacha for bread, having married nagibin wrote in his diary. she fell on me like fate. he loved her very much , forgave her a lot and taught her a lot. so she's talking about him spoke. i will be forever grateful to him, he taught me to read, he was a scribe. older means he's a girl, beauty. he also gave out the reading of the reader was real, she knew how to read. their marriage lasted 8 years. during this time, it was several times left and again returned for the bend stretched. glory to don juan sakhmadullina's marriage was his fifth and not the last marriage, but even while living with another woman. nagibin continued to be insanely

jealous of his ex-wife. he could not come to terms with the fact that she found a replacement for him in the face film director. ildar kuliev, the son of the legendary poet, kabardino-balkarian kuliev, was especially annoyed by the fact that bella's new chosen one was much younger than her in 1973. contrary to all predictions. as a result of this novel, a daughter, elizabeth, was born. by this time, akhmadullina had an adopted daughter. anna from an early age, the girls were immersed in the wonderful world of poetry. mom always read poetry to me. i, for example, in the poem flower. pushkin has always known. i can’t even remember now, otherwise i thought when i didn’t know him, probably my mother just read it to me, here she slipped me all the time and all the time. to pushkin of his color, these congratulations to his daughter anna on funny postcards were not included in the collections of poems, and today for the first time you will hear such an ahmaduli. well, tell me

why the dog walks in boots, but immodest answered my question, and here are the dog's boots, he ordered. i sew to make anya laugh. that's all. the end of the messages about mine, having learned the letter, all the dogs ask for amen, and she herself - it was at the time we had a brown path small path and here on many postcards. he appears to be. that's what the dogs say hello to him, let's take a walk with the names on the balcony. and it's small. well, this cat has spent the last six months with her mother as a cat. in the last days i was with her, and she always touched her so gently, gently and says i can now. from childhood, i was touched by meeting with any living creature, because my grandmother allowed me to bring and care for homeless animals. once. it was even a wounded rat who spent her first fee in her life by buying a puppy. mom,

of course, could never have any stray dog to see without crying for half an hour there was such a huge pan. mom poured there. all that was left there after the party was some broths and delicious things. bones of meat, some cool fell asleep and cooked for a long time, it turned out such a huge pan of food, and then we put it all on posture. in front , my sister walked behind. i held this pan , went there to the village with some bowls and fed the animals. i still love this message. ah, what in the world is going on, a red-haired girl is passing by, carrying two buckets, but there are no buckets in water, but what then answered in them, beauty, you, this does not concern me. i'm afraid of anya's buckets so that they don't fall in one hello, from mom in another hello from dad. is it easy to carry such thoughts on a yoke , they are somehow such, as if children understand everything.

it seemed to be so different, the one who loved was the wife and mother, the one who at night in silence by a candle over a cup of coffee bent over a sheet of paper. the one who went on stage and captured any audience with her unique voice filled with the music of words. the one who met with friends at a friendly table and the one who stood up tough and courageous in defense of those she loved. here is your hero i ask you to love, please to yourself pavlik hello hello lie down what are you? i'll sit down here for a bit, my god. newspapers want to talk to you. it's possible? how do you feel? to begin with, such normal questions. where are you from? how many years where did you study? in 64,

a wonderful film was released on the screens such a guy shukshin lives for the role of a young, journalist vasily makarovich invited bela akhmadullina scripts, and the heroine is written strange and beautiful. who more than akhmadulina muk corresponded to this definition, the truth was refused to play such an alien who descended directly into the hospital ward to interview, and the feat of pashka kolokolnikov. play as you can said shukshin we must still write why we ran to this car. and i don't know, to be honest. and you yourself write something, but you can do something like that, but obviously you thought that if the barrels explode, then a fire, think further on the tanks, right? exactly she looked, as they say, organically, because after school, she really managed to work in the newspaper

of excommunication from the institute, she visited her editorial offices of a literary newspaper in siberia, now i’ll tell you between the director of this film and therefore a short romance broke out and relationships that gave rise to hmm very serious, as it were, well, such behaviors and the space in which she was when they came to visit together, the owners looked with amazement at how the dirty moscow snow of a strange man’s boots thawed on the carpets jersey. shukshina you will still remember who came to you and told them there were a lot of interesting things about him. so for me it was some kind of amazement, because well, on one

pole, exquisitely akhmadullina on the other, vasily. what kind of shukshin in boots once shukshin defiantly, walking in boots, met with evgeny yevtushenko defiantly, walking in butterflies. this meeting almost ended in a fight, but the bugs are shy. vasily makarychev nevertheless forced akhmadulena, and she, when he received some fee, took his hand, said let's go and bought him shoes. she taught him, for example, to poetry. so, for example, she presented a book on the sides. after opal already so. here he read it but did not forget, i say there is a photograph, pasternak is digging a garden. he says, and yours is also in boots. lokhmadullina always had many admirers, some admired and loved her, others tried to achieve her friendship so that it was very difficult. she did not let everyone close to

her, preferring talented and interesting people. she was an extraordinary krosha, you understand this, i testify, as a woman and when a given. it was impossible to take your eyes off when she read poetry in conjunction with this voice, then not a single man who could approach her or valued her friendship, and everything could not help but be in love with her when my comrades were burning. i understand the words law. nykh, but my tenderness stony prevents me from listening to how their koryat andrey voznesensky was akhmadulina bound by tender friendship and did not dedicate poems to each other, and i his koryo. why are you them? why are you the air of a child's forehead ram? all this is true, but still he is my comrade. and i

love my comrades, i love to watch, andrey seemed to be with special trepidation. and maybe he was in love with her. but in the sixty-fourth year, the conflict was resolved, as in the old novels, andrei married zoya boguslavskaya. once we were at the house of creativity with andrey andreevich, we had to remake someone, and she rushed there, so she knelt in front of me and hung me on opal's neck and a cross. he said he chose you. and you are holy to me. well, not yours, he said in his daughter. what is important is what she did, this gesture is already very much with great affection for me. listen like this it's hard to understand what love was really for. to what extent and when were you led

to experience what is called by this word and which for every woman is the highest manifestation of her earthly beginning. or maybe god's measured gift was from above and allowed her to love in some special way only she knows. who knows? after 10 years, akhmadullina would meet her man. or he will meet her one way or another they meet here at 33 povarskaya house street until the end of the sixties was the old cinema house. akhmadulina became a famous theater artist boris, the son of the famous safami, here in this lobby the subtle artist saw his muse for the first time and this impression remained for a lifetime. she entered some kind of careless fur coats that fell from her, all

disheveled with some kind of hair with snowflakes, and simply proceeded from one door, in general, another. but at the same time, we stood with my friend lyova from the master's artist, and she is somehow elusive so somehow i made some kind of hello there. even though i didn't even know who it was and i asked lev when this profile happened who it was and he didn't answer. this is ahmaduli's business. surprisingly, by the time he met the white one. i have read more than one of her poems. he just got carried away by a beautiful lady and only then did he find out that she was a talented poet. it turned out that they live nearby. we met dogs while walking with her. and white, as a rule , was always dressed very much. modestly at home, because she went out in shoes on a low heels just walk the dog. it was

kind of like home. was she incredibly touching or not? once it was unexpectedly suggested come in 2 days to the dacha, pasternak, we will celebrate the day of his memory, then there were still meetings. once a misyurer. he invited her to his workshop , having got there, he remained boris forever. boris asafovich carefully keeps a sheet of drawing paper with verses of bala written at the very beginning and temples of these huge nails. they are actually called small restorative bones. because there are such hooks already quite large and so i crucified this poem. here is his original, this is what it is, that is the first poem. then i remembered that i was alive. it was winter and

snow was falling. the heat constricted her heart, she was in love with someone, what was the house on povarskaya now called, otherwise, she means that vorovsky was a period of time when the soviet when he called vorovsky and i joked that it was, uh, on povarskaya she was not a thief, my joke . daytime all night long. i was in love with someone in that house on povarskaya the space that is called in the workshop the artist. it was rather written about the sixth or seventh day of our acquaintance. but i was shocked, because i realized that this was the first verse, which i read, of course, he gave her a lot and in a new layer of some kind. uh, well, the beauty that was in it. she, of course, ended up in a very refined

aristocratic environment of her own, and that's this feeling. along with his kindness, his giftedness. she, of course, played a decisive role that they tried for so many years and until the end of gems. he had many friends who later became friends, and this corner was like that. here is really at the table, which now it will move apart and large. here another table is substituted for him here indeed. there were wonderful people. there is only a picture. here is one of the feasts here. here you can see it very clearly. here. feast right in this setting you see a bear crucifix. here here is white volodya vysotsky yuri petrovich lyubimov, this is me, and this is antonione michelangelo anthony, the famous director. here they are

on gura lora his wife is young. this is where the xian is also here. in this picture. it was a very hospitable house, in general, especially when there were some family holidays, the fans would come in crowds, and they would bring such bouquets of flowers, and the whole workshop of the misrer was littered with flowers. right now, by the way, it's hard to imagine that there is such a feast, people drink, eat and say, and read your elements to us. that's when it was. well absolutely, well norms. that is, everyone asked for this, and mothers, of course, did not i wanted to, and apparently, somehow, well, probably for 100 years. this is wrong and the place for poetry. well, nevertheless. that's what she always read. it’s already boring, and inappropriately, about a famous friend, it’s not easier to talk about whether

the wooden modular had an elegant style and an amazing sense of the word; her poems are not easy to understand, but she fascinated the public thanks to her unique manner of reading, the audience could listen to her for hours. i remember in kazan she was reading reading for 2 hours, then it all ended with one, the audience reached for the exit. she suddenly says, let me read it to you again, it's impossible, because i'm not talking about pop music about some that is just waiting, when the concert is over or singing under the plywood, and here the audience suddenly stopped. and it was something i had never seen in my life. like how the funnel is pulled back. she has already left and she has been reading for another half an hour. mom, in fact, she cooked very well, which can be a lot of surprises, very tasty. she did n't even have such famous dishes. she made

wonderful julienne. she notices she didn't make cabbage soup. and well, in general, different parties took place here all the time, a lot of people came and my mother cooked herself and that's it. well, she was fine with it. in general, my mother was probably a good one, in principle, the hostess is another matter that, well, you would have bothered her a little. i think so, of course, the attention lacked them. yes, and my mother had little time, but at the time when she was with us, she always knew how to give us some kind of children's holiday to give the feeling that there is something, something, some kind of magic in life. we talk sister and sister daughters elizabeth and a. she is not a slut. well, how early it is, like stillness, well, magic. in winter, under the windows of the peredelkino dacha, for the new year, the christmas tree always dressed up, which today became huge for the

first time. the christmas tree was probably six months old, but it seems to me that i still remember it. why did her mother dress her up for a long time, we didn’t know anything, and then , quite unexpectedly, she brought us and showed her to us, and we were also in such delight, as usual, people’s rumor did not go around this side of the rumor, and there is a rumor. whether it's grandmother at the entrance sleeping area or the ladies of the writer's holiday village, peredelkino was all indignant with the fact that she did not pick up or the child sat from kindergarten for an hour or two, the only mother who did not do this was and she loved them very much until the last day, loved and called, but she didn’t really have time for this, she was very tormented, because of this, and tried her best to explain to the children, too, that she was just simply torn apart by time with deeds, and therefore we all lived separately, in general. well, they traveled a lot abroad, big

there were no breaks at all. but that's all. the theme of her experience i will return everything to you, nothing that has not taken away, menacingly, tenacious wool, our delay is waiting for closed doors. i believe that everything that is good, in general, could be given to us, yes, and passed on. mom gave us all this and in general, of course, her role in our upbringing of a huge time. she had little strength, but she did a lot christmas tree presents poems mom bent over a sheet of paper in the bright light of a candle in the night. here the kingdom bursts, she dedicated poems to her husband. he tried to grab elusive, fragile. blokovsky's appearance in his watercolors is just as gentle and transparent.