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Dmitry Bykov: it bursts with God's patience

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bulls: it bursts with God's patience

"And, behold, the Lord will pass away, and a great and strong wind, tearing mountains and breaking rocks before the Lord, but not in the wind Lord, after the wind an earthquake, but not in the earthquake of the Lord, after the earthquake fire, but not in fire the Lord; quiet wind, and there the Lord "
(1 Kings 19: 11-12).

This whole year, with his anguish and malice, from all the cracks that have suddenly become useful, I hear a note uneasy, a special sound, to any voice, like a sizzle, like a foam on the foam, the rustle of a pebble after a storm in the Crimea, the snuffling of a waiting animal, but only the beast can not be seen by anyone.

And so, while they are throwing nonsense, and they lie, as usual, they have their roots, plus they are already being mocked by the last ones, who have not gone away and have not become like them, while they shake their own stories about the main-native with a rattle, and blood, and vodka his quiet horror before tomorrow, as long as they twitch, like a hanged man, boringly sticking out his tongue-pomelo - I hear a voice, imperceptibly mixed with the Trololo, which has not changed. And through the stupefaction which has attacked everyone, he is more and more clearly heard to me - as if the teapot is nocturnal, its boiling on low heat.

As the prudential tensions are ripening, digging trenches and laying trenches, the latent movement is heard more clearly, yet distinct for sensitive ears. The Lord is not in the wind, in the hurricane, and in the rumbling - so a frightened demon can act; and the growth of madness and lust is always punished not by thunder from heaven; The Lord does not act either by shouting or by gunpowder - his almost inaudible voice is accompanied by a mysterious rustle with which foam sometimes bursts, and now I feel, feel, feel, at least admit and do not want to myself - as in the thunderous cacophony of the vile already intertwines the most delicate "Chu "...

While the latter are the first, there are no orders, no schemes, it is sweet to me, like angels singing after darkness, behind clouds, behind everything: such a quiet, almost a cappel, invulnerable to disputes and fights.

It's bursting with God's patience.

It does burst like this.

Dmitry Bykov

http://gor Michael Cheval art

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