due to the crisis in germany, the ratings of all traditional parties of the left-wing politicians have fallen sharply. sara vagina. gnecht recently announced her intention to create a new non-systemic, anti-war party on election issues. this movement will easily outmaneuver green and free democrats, to say the least. in the east of the country thanks. what will compete with the two main parties, the cdu, the csu, the social democrats, this is the latest news for this minute. see you at 19:00.

only time will judge, some well- known belarusian, probably a writer or journalist. i am i don’t know such people, no i don’t know eugene who i hear for the first time. she very tragically ended her life at the peak. glory to evgeny yanishchet. the whole country will quote the poetess. the first woman who will have the honor to represent the belarusian delegation to the general assembly of the united nations and a little later his name will be put on a par with eminent classics of literature, but the triumph

will not last long on november 25, 1988, the body of a forty-year-old poetess will find in the courtyard of this nine-story building. in the very center of minsk, there will be dozens of doom-mongers, chilling souls and speculation, and relatives will not be able to put an end to this story even two decades later. the tragedy of the belarusian akhmatova poly did not think that talling could be closed, who poisoned the poetess beloved by millions. at the very top there was a student with her pencil case, i decided a provocation. and how she survived the family drama she packed her things and went nowhere. what secrets

these love songs still keep, they cannot forgive themselves, to this day it is not scary. for the first time on television, all the secrets of the country's most closed music. watch right now. the village of rudka in the pinsk region, the picturesque

belarusian region and the zero kilometer of life yevgeny enis here she went to first grade, and in this school the teachers saw the future literary star. with myself, if the family was like this, something was the first pronunciation. i am also zhenya, and someone somewhere like this, i myself came up with this. a year later, the girl will transfer to another school, it is in the mercenary eight-year-old that her literary moron will take place. to shovel from thieves and magazines to find where she wrote off to her beggars for nothing, it is god's gift. this is the god i am of man. we see

1963 as the start of the creative path of pts . it was a sensation. this newspaper burst from hand to hand. we didn't believe it happened? is it true that this is the name of zhenya , it was a discovery for us. naturally. we saw new wife. there are pro literary talents and the beggar quickly scattered around the district. the first publications were read to the holes, and passed from hand to hand, the life of the girl suddenly turned upside down behind her wings grew, the beginning pts went headlong into work, and the cinema dances were shelved . the folk poet of the belarusian

borodulina came with a burning sensation, vigilant and open already, i’m not looking for the amount and from the light of course , this report may have been deduced on the formula and creativity, the real name is yevgeny yanishets, potopchuk. first mother's husband died during the war because of his poetry. has got with the second spouse. maria andreevna lived in a civil marriage for a long time. zhenya 's mother's nickname is the sloth of writing boxes, and baska iosif stepanovich took away. she still had a problem. i didn’t have such a pash portal and the kalevas gave passports, then they issued it. zhenya kalib was on this nickname, she wrote many peaks, she was not at home, she was not at home, she gave shelter to curves, her father worked as a tractor driver on the collective farm and words in the village, like a man with

golden hands. whether the charmist in the district is remembered and this day? well, her mother will call us close. let's get drunk, i'll circle the cookie, and she can see that he wasn't a good voice mother maria andreevna from dawn to dusk she worked on the collective farm, and at home she kept a large household among the locals sent a clairvoyant, in any everyday question, the villagers ran to her for advice, wise maria andreevna is a woman with a very serious condition. mine, whom the villagers called the professor, because she knew a lot, if she didn’t appear, quests, they said to some question, now maria will go to shop for bread. we'll ask her, she knows everything about the getman class, she studied the burning of yanishevsk. zhenya was sitting at the window freebie on another desk, the paris

basic school. today. there are a little more than 30 students here, and half a century ago about 600 children went here together, from all over the district within these walls, the future poetess appeared at a time when her talent was already blossoming for a lesson about the history of alphon for sasha koval and he wanted to ignite and you hang it, an hour may pass, and you will speak. pizza that you were in the same class a reasonable burning sensation, and she will be a great poetess, and even though outwardly the girl did not stand out among odnoklassniki, the teachers assure her talent, the bell was immediately evident. it rang all the usual, all the teachers

came out of the magazines to go to the lessons. for some reason, she stands and looks, and i went up to her arming the call, i saw the light. she turned around in a kind of thoughtfulness and quietly. went to class. she regretted that she had been disturbed. there in the midst of this nature. she, of course, was then yes, 49 square meters more than a thousand exhibits and hundreds visitors. today, in the same behavioral school, there is a museum named after yevgeny enis. director antonina sidoruk remembers how, at one of the meetings of the circle, a fifteen-year-old poetess struck down all those present on the spot with the first handwritten collection. no less than the first dews , the honored teacher of belarus, fyodor sudilla, was in charge of the school association. many assure

it was he who played the key. the remote control of the formation of unices, as the poetess gave the diamond a cut, he will come out, she gives him her notes. he is some correct some of the comments. mistakes, and then she runs cheerfully. fedor fedorovich said that this talent told about the relief. his breath was so tight, not radiating to his ears. they dined for nothing as a literary gift, that he would return. evgeny was persecuted in the mid-1960s, the elements of poverty were printed in central newspapers about her, she began to talk about her at the very top of the writers, the girl quickly became a wing and

gained unprecedented popularity in the same year in one of the newspapers, the name of the poetess catches the eye cadet of the faculty of journalism of the lvov political school, sergei panics, aspiring poetess, he falls in love with one publication and, having obtained the address from the editors, he goes to get acquainted with the boxes. he asks for the night. now you have breakfast tonight. and now they wrote their photos today and i will tea my wife rewrote the manual version. i niched and sent to the editorial office of the newspaper most of the literature. them. it can be said that there was such a narrowed publication on foot by a republican friend. what was the curtain on the cob worse than eugene and they are now on literary olympus on the day of that very meeting between young people and the first spark flared up ahead there

will be years of correspondence of feelings at a distance and love, so once again. and you piss off, god, i'm for the kohana. yes, on it the cart came if my god, one creature in front of him took away the chance to bachish. after finishing school. i'm not right now entering the faculty of philology of the belarusian state university, the beginning of the pts and teaching circles, was considered the strongest among the students of the color of national literature. oles ryazanov, tatyana shamyakina, viktor yarost, gennady pashkov, and many others studied here. she is was a very simple modest girl, from which i wanted to communicate. i only realized later that zhenya is a star, not the same as all his student years. she is not looking for tirelessly printed in the most popular literary editions of the young, belarus beryozka literary newspaper. and even to the truth, her poems are everywhere

in alignment as a curator and mentor, a novice poetess becomes a recognized master in a year. it was the honored poet of belarus nil gilevich who was called the godfather of the boxes. i remember to appear so this hand is spread even about such a child to baptize. what is it like god and he is no longer the same father. well, i am a diamond, a caring belarusian was attentive to zhenya and protected her very much. how is it envy? well, what is it? zhenya, well, a lot, that's why you then realize that it's not very, uh, an ardent receptive soul. he was afraid that here is the metropolitan vanity. here is capital world. maybe, well, she'll get hurt somehow. you cliché call me. one hundred roads behind my dancing. the boys are all for any ainaksh to live, not

waving, having received the first recognition and a flurry of compliments and i am looking for. takes up the preparation of his own collection and writes, as friends assure in any free minute at a couple of breaks in the hostel, precisely at the moments when in the hands of a pencil a girl falls out of reality and on the mountain gives out lines that suddenly become masterpieces , she could not be a shahan at any moment, from honor the smoke hurts enough with her lips, she opens the door to her wife, what is it, and where did they not notice this, she wrote poetry. she will be all in poetry in 1970, saw the first book of enis, a collection of snowy tombs, the book becomes a real bestseller, and recognized masters of the word and literary critics agree on

opinion. this is the premiere of a true triumph of the breakouts. in the literary world, something fresh and new has burst into the literature, this word was believed by all my recognized swifts. it was. well, a sloppy collection, a fresh person came in a hurry to belarusian literature. she grew up was objectively approached. yes, the assessment of this collection and the assessment was correct, high 49 works with exceptional figurativeness, the skillfully selected slot collection is instantly disassembled into quotes and set as an example for all aspiring poets. yes, they are already from my literary experience i can say that she had no creativity. she filed such a surgisla immediately, a moron of literary flying, the suit was shaking the word, and she already knew who

literature demanded meat on and you can say that it was her pen. you see the mother was. they are respected by some kind of good faculty you are a little his style you grow up and what a share to add fish to live the most unwilling to fly behind your back. so the truth, despite popular recognition and connections in creative circles , first of all appeared to correspond to this ideological attitudes under special control, the socio-political position of the seventy-first and impoverished, already being members of the komsomol, the union of the writer accepts the candidacy unanimously on the sidelines, now and then whispered for her to influence wearable patrons. it was the youngest this union of writers of belarus, we were proud of it, despite the deafening popularity and the poor work hard. the first fees were pennies for a month ran, no more than 5 rubles. plus

a small degree of modest salary. however, not prevented the girl literally. to fill up relatives with gifts when she was going home, she would definitely cook what she would give aunt lyuba s with mustaches and seas as soon as she arrived. it’s just that even by some kind of , uh, miracle, the neighbors immediately recognized this and literally after 2 minutes i was already on the doorstep, which means to meet her, i’m going to the bus stop, because she’s already running this suitcase dragging the same two. we know, zhenya has already brought something, delicious. in just a few months, fate and poverty will have an event that will turn her life upside down. forever. the sixty-eighth, already a student

of the bsu pts, again meets the very same sergei poniznik by that time the man had already worked as a war correspondent and served in the 120th guards division, he often visited the girl in the hostel, but the happy moments of intimacy are crossed out by sergei's move to czechoslovakia and again, months ahead long- distance relationships have intensified. this is what i felt brought them closer together over the gate. eh, separation has become, as it were, a curtain, but how to see more one of one began akannik these letters. they were never published uniquely, and only a few were held in their hands in one of these letters on the bottom will make a marriage proposal to a beloved woman. so i am guilty of my foundation in the snow and faiths of the khybers

are ringing to you the same manger for both of us, lyuba, i so want to be maddened by the worst, that these are my mouths on the shoots or my heart is worried and jacking. i think you understand me. here evgeny's box is revealed in a new way. the great kokhanya is pure, high, they complement each other very well. she loves to be in sight. he likes to be in the shadows in some situations where you need to achieve something there, and a woman will take it upon herself, and in the same place where a cold head and calculation is needed, a man will take over love or a cross for life in this. it would seem that only one person did not believe the flawlessly written fairy tale about love, but i immediately liked my grandmother and the group. why didn't you like him? well, the handsome man here lay down to my soul, that's all. not all that he was a military man, but he

will punish. you will ride and bacterians together on place. well, it is administrative, if i go along the lower kan, i won’t go like that at all, and still a wedding. it took place, and three times a magnificent celebration, about which the press immediately hurried to report, took place on august 19, seventy-first in minsk in person. the entire cultural beau monde of the country gathered to congratulate the young, and it is not surprising that both eminent and status poets in the registry office gave rise to another surprise in their marriage. it became a 2,000th honor here, uh, there were more than 100 people abandoned. wives were not enlarged in the quality of the holy one. they would hang. did not have typical for that hour, it was not an accidental fall; the second time the wedding was already played in the

bride's homeland in the village, the villian was in the hall after the test, gets up and congratulates. and you are low, don’t be a creeper, you don’t love zhenya, yes, forgive me, kishan. tribute to them a three-meter bank, drunk vodka went to the field and can’t tell you in words what it was like? she was so happy that in general, here with her grandmother, probably more than 100 people. it definitely fit. this house was walked all over the villages that day after the feast of the bridegroom planted two money eternal love, first birch soon put it in and even then many counted. it 's foolish. after a few decades, they didn’t go, they came. we started the luxury grew, and the other was broken broke. and it was not directly so symbolic that the young people stayed in the homeland of the groom in the

village of kavguri, and soon spent their honeymoon in jurmala. after him, the young husband was forced to return to the service in the czechoslovakian and the beggar did not hesitate to go after him. thus began a short period of her overseas and happy life. you will smile now is the period. eh, we know laziness with czechoslovakia right. it was all fun until the full period. but only, well, such prosaic everyday life begins, and she turned out that only i recognized it, and the languages ​​\u200b\u200bof they and wine weren’t private after a few months, evgenia and poverty told her husband the joyful lead of the family , replenishment was waiting and immediately got ready to go home to her mother november 14 was born. the first-born was named andrei for a whole year the poetess lives in two countries, in the

summer of 73, when the boy is getting stronger, the woman returns to her husband in czechoslovakia, but all this time she yearns for her homeland endlessly, she writes time for creativity , there is very little time for family chores and the lack of order disturbs the poetess; and this is the period of 170, ruff. he would be less eager, and less captive to the theon's creative plan of the poetess. uh, the signs are lined up with laziness, an alley, the earthly jamshins did not believe, in principle, the earthly people live in muddy turbobots from them. see the state his wife asks for a transfer to minsk, the management gives the go-ahead in the summer, 73. the family in full force returns to the belarusian capital, a pleasant

surprise for the young family was with magic apartment, however, the long-awaited housewarming is not enough, what has changed in the relationship of the couple, problems begin family happiness criminal problem. everything that the movie is called is that e knees were in czechoslovakia, they snuffed out five gold coins from the slaughter of the sumitsky podoron and brought in this coin. belarus fucking young family. it was simply on the ozron of sovereign goldenness. but under the shalim e to carry on experiments for several years of interrogations and park ones for misconduct before the state. ponism is expelled from the party, stripped of his title, stripped of his epaulettes, he falls into the list of so-called suspicious elements, and success and glory against this background, as if even more emphasized his

own rights to be a bad husband next to a smart, beautiful, wife was not allowed, marriage is nothing could not save the seventy-sixth was a loud divorce. so, offended once. she is andreeva packed her things and went nowhere; a woman can blame a man for not being emotionally dry, not loving enough, not showing enough feelings, and to a man she may seem overwhelmingly dominant. and that she wants too much from him. however, this is only one side of the coin, was this the main reason for the bitter parting, or is there something or someone else behind this? what eugene, i, the beggar, did not tell even to my closest ones, and then she took the secret with her to the grave, literary critics are sure of only one thing and friends. after parting, she did not stop loving the problems of divorce from her husband for a minute. she

didn't talk to her friends at all. it was some kind of forbidden topic, at least in general, through all her poetry, feelings and love for this person can be traced, the seventies became a test not only in her personal life, the crisis also affected creativity. i'm a beggar getting an order for the new year's work it was a creaking problem. with her husband in her arms a small child to a book. they waited for a long 4 years, but the collection of the vesharovye day did not work out, it should have been connected with the fact that you're so not uniquely the weakest, and she's not such a ticking compilation. the poetry of the skin version to the full application has some new creative obsyagi, and for other collections of this itself, our literature did not diminish, knew the caviar no longer had an effect, then the

novelties are such used, uh, kohl step. i lost one of them, this is already an incredible signature, and no matter what, please tell me, modern writers assure that this is not the time and not the place of hope for another breakthrough. one or the other, before the eyes of critics, smashed the four-year work of scrambled eggs pooh and ashes shortly after the publication, but few people knew, the second collection was a kind of struggle of the poetess herself after the somewhat childish and naive snowy tombs and the impoverished with transferring personal experiences to paper in the press, critical reviews appeared every now and then, and close friends colleagues in the shop tactfully. the boy by the moon whispered that the failure of the collection was not important and i foolishly went to find that, of course, the author of the verme covered the case, because for this part she had already become mutual there. ipel her landings, and she already

distinguished. she writes a thread about pain for less than seven such changes. and you wear it all the way, and then with this and so pain, you start poking this wound with your fingers, it’s only yours that i’m afraid of. nevertheless, it turns out for the collection of the lenin komsomol prize, rather, even what is a dozen of her from above. today i am crying to walk in this collection. not enough damn it feels like that. the great ones were piled on a tree, forgotten for a long 4 years, troubles fell down one after another , a black streak began, the seventy-fifth leaves life. her father is more and more annoyed by his own

disorder after the divorce, the poetess wanders around friends and acquaintances knocks on thresholds. in search of at least some kind of work, it seemed impossible to endure more, but the fragile yevgeny yunishets still faces the test of an accident, after which they were literally assembled in parts. lord on this trail. and the yanas stood out from alexey's settled colleagues. let him like the first version on that god check yourself as a hotel. and i and she got rid of him. e both walked on several hands, and he went breakdowns that slowed down cars and hit near, what did you pass? 2 1/2 months in the hospital comte complicated fractures on the body doctors doubted there was no living place. will she be able to walk at all, but she herself does not seem to be forgotten much and is not looking for with more worries about others. how is the son, mother, and

even the driver who was driving the ill-fated car, the mental pain was many times stronger than the physical one, lying on the suspension of the weight. i could n’t turn around at my feet and blamed the whole village for us and decided that fish should pay for a happy life after 3 months of rehabilitation in their native velesnitsa next to mom and son, it was necessary to gather the will into a fist to stand up and go on strength to live on was given only by little andrey and work from school. we walk from death. or naturally, we go to the grandmother. here grandmother always has goodies in the oven table. this round one, it was all on the papers and inscribed with clean underlined. that's what i remember very well then. it was just such an ideal picture, an ideal life, where we were together with my mother, for me it was the most important thing in october seventy-six and a beggar gets a job in a rural newspaper,

a lead consultant, and a few months later after lengthy requests from the writers' union and yet they allocated an apartment, ulyanovsk 4 for 11 years became an unofficial gathering point for like-minded writers, the semi-basement of an adjacent room, and windows almost on the sidewalk was darkish and damp and lived with two. though two while its aquators. so it wasn't urgent. there will be something creative people themselves of course trebazh. here this place makes one of the rooms was completely furnished with books. she had her own schedule. she usually. she worked at night and during the day she allows herself to sleep a little longer. these walls. the whole world saw the then creative elite, in the evenings flights gathered in the kitchen. boevikov. valentina kovtun nor zagorskaya

discussion of poetry and conversations about life dragged on until dawn. now she forbade herself to visit. it was a kind of ritual and persha, kava to tighten the hump to sing, then i was punished not to melt all this all at once, swaying the peaks of stalin was very large apartment, especially the large kitchen. that is, in principle, all the events took place there, but she loved, uh, to call her friends and uh, read uh, that's just what came. probably to appreciate it, maybe they suggested that sometimes the sheets are scattered on the table in the kitchen at home. i mean, well, all the work happened at night. here she wrote at night and prepared another book for publication. seventy-eight, she seems to have a second wind, and the creative upsurge reaches its peak, the last few years have been the most

difficult in the life of the poetess, the problems that fell on her fragile shoulders, according to all the laws of genres, should have been broken to turn the soul into ashes, but she survived and shot in this collection, i always became absolutely new on the floor and ears. eh, there already, of course, big people come up the stairs. these are just the drowsiness of the coverrs. her brother's leather falcon was collecting mehrohol rasul and kolka's bulase from vedashlyak in this collection of yaselder, without smelling me, after a disastrous day in ball criticism. we waited with special interest for the poetry of the polissya dreamer sensual and subtle, the main motive is boundless

love for the native land of nature, and every line is saturated with this, of course, she was interested. this is nature. you see, she's probably looking at the mirror. here is some kind of energy and took the material in order to sing of their belarusian land, so we will give birth to our wife with powerful trains to our own. thus, she sang her food on her own, on the stairs of ukraine, the gossip of the years. here white gosliks and wise grandfathers are grabbing in the woods and the sun and water, and what is not a house is a song and what is not a yard gardens, in a word, this is the pinnacle of its alignment in the image of its small motherland. the return to her did not disappear was a triumphant grigory borodulin yan kabra gennady buravkin. vasily bykov famous colleagues

did not skimp on praise here and she opened as a waiter. she's right, damn it, it's in your native spring word that you can put quiet on the leskerovka at your cottage cheese. you came out collection after collection. she was awarded prizes and every time i wanted to make the collection better and better, so that her word would not be lost. there were also those who the collection became a bone in the throat. why the poetess herself did not understand and was not looking for was a perfectionist, she strove for the ideal and wanted to become the best version of herself, not everyone liked this version, it is a critical article. win, they painted over everything that was a break in the poet's hair, and now these are rainbows. i am now

trying the task of being a master of a colleague in a person. there are already three poetic books. there are only performances. uh, and to the dances of the city and they will delight so happy. i have a serious label hung on this creative person. lets everything through itself and so a look that you might not like. she will worry that this is certainly hurt. she always reacted sharply to the criticism of yevgeny yanishets. she is trying to figure it out and maybe for the first time looking for an answer to sacred questions, who is she in this world and what did the writer appear for her, lives in doubts and fears of her inner circle, then she will confirm during this period and the poor fell into a terrible depression in the texts. you can e understand that i'm on e,

persuading with the fact that evgenia's mother, yana, with a breakdown , rebuild herself, and according to rebuffs, for special requires it is sharpened very much perceives both criticism and compliments. and, in principle, it is very important. what an impression it makes and in spite of, maybe , he showed it to him like that. independence, and it largely depends on the opinions of the people around. in what way did our ancestors store the products of the real male craft of cooperage? our pancakes are not for nothing that we are called bulbash. myths and legends nearby

popular culture in all its glory watch every week the project of fashion for culture on belarus 24 tv channel. for someone, their hobby may seem strange do not see how the building material. the artifact is kaluga is coming. this is st. petersburg, this is german, this is belgian, here i have a brick with prints of dogs and cats, but for the heroes this is one of the main things of their life, because i pulled the whole family together, but because and i

understood that this is, just there is no exception to the rule, all our friends are familiar. they all left. i want to stay here to leave something here for people to show that something can be done here in every issue. real stories. here, yes. you see this is a floppy. this is the old city. this is when the master's fingers ran over this most made brick, molding to break stereotypes, watch on belarus 24 tv channel . the poetess was accepted into the ranks of the cpsu without this in the soviet years, and

one could not even dream of traveling abroad, and as part of the delegation from the union of writers of the bssr it was possible to travel from not only the republic of the country of soviets, but also state of the so-called sociology. i used the privilege of the poor, went to all sorts of plenums and speeches, and in the dusty offices at home, they whispered such an opportunity, she got to swim. i don’t think that i planned as much as a mass movement, to be updated from some encroachments , students, some performances. here is the highway, the orientation of propaganda was not at full open; in this , along with trust, on fragile shoulders, lay down from the value of numerous state assignments and assignments of its role in the development of the belarusian literature is highly rated at different levels of the power vertical. in the autumn of the eighty-first pts, as part of the

delegation of the bssr, enishchetz participated in the work of the thirty-sixth session of the general assembly and in the life of the poetess - this is a special period, about which, for various reasons, they do not really like to remember relatives. there was a student from her oceanic provocation. one person went to rest and the profane for the version of the union to transfer the dolyars. i visited and was pissed off for nothing , there are also wiretappers of yosi the camera, and here i am, broke. it was her dolyars who flushed it down the toilet. i want to slap you, you can't. i wiped everything out of alina's life, it's just not an array. the mission of incredible importance and to represent their state in the country of victorious capitalism, to be the voice of the government and the mouthpiece of the then authorities, was prepared for such trips with a sosop addiction, in order to get

the long-awaited go-ahead to leave, they had to go through the seven circles of hell, intimidation and briefing mandatory points in preparation. it is not surprising that instead of the joy of discovering new places, such a business trip did not cause anything but countries after returning to her homeland, the poetess closed herself in herself was afraid to answer calls even go out later, acquaintances will reproach you more than once for not helping and the beggar needed qualified help to sort out his feelings and fears realized it was too late. yes , such fatigue is noticeable, but it never remained expressed. that here uh and there is not bad or what? well, i understood that, well, uh, life, like, uh, a poet, must be made up of different situations. eh, some are worried. some are more difficult.

she's not flexible enough. ah. she is not very stress-resistant due to this, there is too much tension of control and due to this, well, some breakdowns can happen after a few years in the life of poetry, another event will occur that will again undermine the terrible forces, on september 14th. 1985 12-year-old andrei is on the verge of life and death for a long time, the doctors could not make an accurate diagnosis. until, finally, out of the blue, appendicitis sounded. she doesn't i knew, what is related to some kind of andrey was in the hospital, or is it a leather day in advance. there were reservations only about andrei, only about his ailments, i was very worried. yes, and every day she came, if it was not possible to go in, i looked out the window to give such a moment, uh, a turning point month,

which my son, a beggar, brought in a hospital bed, heartbroken, my mother practically did not eat and did not sleep. she was on the verge of insanity, the only cure for a woman becomes during this time. she wrote my one-one date cycle like simple spell walls, a prayer to heaven the son of you and death. you, she will worry, pray and somehow experience her hesitation, and therefore , despite the difficult period, the piggy bank of the title of awards flew new 86 on competently the soviet committee for the protection of peace, parallel participation in the congresses of the union of writers of the ussr, together with oleg loyka, nil gilevich, and through for several months the state award of the bssr for a book of poetry is time for love and it's

a pity that came out 83 the path to the award was thorny, not every poet had such opportunity, when the meeting proposed to nominate her candidacy. she was confused and did not believe at first. i am memory. i broke zhenya myself. here, then i'll take care of it. i gave her a beloved school. she does not speak the jackal, she did not force anything herself. she roamed. she's here, i filled her phrase. however, those who thought that the leadership of the writers' union found it that way, immediately fell down. they say, not according to the rules of the situation, the collection was put forward by the author of this note, as the witnesses of the conflict recall, he was a person who entered the circle. most close colleagues, he gathered for a second meeting, most of the votes he learned, for zhenya

, though, not hitherto. she came a lot from those people. and i say this or there is something a word of praise, there we are in the same family, this chipped to me. i myself am rich in disbelief, and not kolya did not think that the taint could be closed and was looking for a lot of things rethought the incident, only the presidium of the writers' union gave her confidence, unanimously approved her in the movement for the award that day, she uttered only one phrase evgeny will come out seeking became the first youngest laureate. ussr named after yanka kupala, how open she was a person, that in this people she just squirmed, here’s newtol’s waters on ulyanovsk, she for everything

primal people another collection. kalina winter. everyone was fascinated by the new creative take-off, national coloring, fortitude and accuracy of the word, the poetess entered the time of her literary maturity, successful, famous illustrious positions since 83. she was the head of the poetry department in the young magazine. however, inside the poetess died away the day of her illness, she reacted to any provocative questions that questioned her citizenship. nskaya, position or creative course the last straw in the sea of ​​anxiety was a trip to finland sowed me that i would try. and now in finland i already don’t know. after

this trip, the janischets ends up in the hospital. my state of mind caused serious concern. then again they started talking about depression, the poetess became to close, and black outfits appeared in the wardrobe. she spoke strangely, spoke in images, as if she was saying goodbye to depression. she does not come once and for all, but depression, and she tells herself the position and that's to live. everything i am not years, everything family is not years, no one is defeated. well, it’s a pity, of course, she thought up, i thought up, i can’t turn it off, that she might have thought to us that she was constantly oozing behind her. i looked tractor drivers are such people and such people are packed for depression for high suicidal potential. and the college read it all criteria, then there was only one refusal. and what is it not by chance that everyone is like this in august of the eighty-eighth , 3 months before the terrible tragedy. evgeniy nischets

allocates a three-room apartment on the eighth floor of the prestigious nastorozhovskaya building, 8, household chores seemed to cheer him up. she took up the search for new furniture with her head went into the move. oh, it was a very exciting process for me. uh, i remember she invited colleagues at work to help move these worries to find new furniture, too, almost everything is old, probably, except for bookshops. they left everything on the shelves, that is, everything was looked for for me, of course, at that time the move, but not the first time. i did not think that this was some kind of great complexity, as i could support. well, everything, these were just mirages on vasily, did not help to the end. to distract from obsessive thoughts, the woman every day more and more retreated into herself, and shared her anxieties only with a narrow circle. well, it's scary in this apartment,

i think. tightened november 20, 1988 yevgeny yanishets is preparing for his 40th birthday, inviting friends and acquaintances to visit, but suddenly changes his plan speaking, not a word. she just goes to her mother or to the stairwell, when she last visited she was 40 years old and her father then. and we came for the weekend and something else at home. and he says something i did not like. her last. well, this visit of hers is somehow not like that, someone with her is not so the next day she left for minsk, promising to call back the stop from which you spent zhenya, her last, so to speak, the last visit of her life. here check from here. and who knew that she would never come back. same here never. we didn't know about it anymore than him.

well, saying goodbye, she said, she left my mother's dress . i said, i'll call, i'll call, but she called no, it was the most ordinary day on november 25 , one thousand nine hundred, eighty-eighth year. i remember exactly it was five friday, that is, well, i went to school, sat in class and called where the director was. then, well, everything was already in the fog, there were texts about death. i smoke the poet's god wrote about it. i'm with my mother. i somehow understood that her child would be stagnant by her attack of death. you can give up like that that tomorrow aba's mother would not come out and did not come out 5 days after her fortieth birthday and she was gone yevgeny yunishets threw him out of the balcony of the eighth floor of his new apartment, the official version

of suicide. however, for many, she still calls with me. i think it's an accident. i don't want to believe that someone out there made an attempt on her life. i think that zhenya was simply tired of living and is not your sense of her future life. this is what will be on the floor many generations do not have a secret? reveal elicit or psychology, where the skin word and i skin splinter five can't say anything about it. now i, in principle, dreamed of her brother, and he asked him. why doesn’t mom come, she won’t come, she’s already so. so what happened, in fact, there are no answers to this question, and to this day, eyewitnesses of the event, only for reasons understandable only to them, are increasingly silent about

too many pitfalls of contradictions in this complex and confusing fate eugene the beggar managed to say her last word, who knows to be, maybe her poems and hidden answers to all questions admirers of her talents continue to look for them until now . and on the edges after the stratum, death bypassed the forecast of abraham's cordeo but what of it, if the field is unlived, i stand with open buckets from the ruins of full and successful will and honor until the very end of equal covered do not dig at the share and it is red for a week.

good evening, briefly, the driver of one of the vehicles fell asleep suffered. i am passengers special.