witchcraft of pushkin's text is lost, as the same sashka rikhin is driving in this truck along tver boulevardrite to the storms that gnaw at the sky hides a whirlwind of snow twisting, and then as he calls the beast, he will cry, like a child, simple rhymes , simple comparisons and nonetheless. it seems to me that every russian person has something when he reads it, when he hears it. hello prince. you are my beautiful something like a rainy day says. she was saddened by what sadness melancholy devours me prince gvidon answers her. again, everything is very simple and everything is infinitely inexpressibly touching. how could he write it? why did he get this amazing gift. what was this person like? we really do not stop, but to be amazed and this is really the mystery of pushkin's life. it would seem so familiar to us. was pushkin happy as a child? more likely. no, we know a little about his childhood, but apparently his relationship with his father, mother and brothers and sisters did not develop very harmoniously. and here, too, by the way, lies one of the mysteries of pushkin's creativity,